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Comment by Ailill on December 20, 2011 at 13:04

Text:

Do you believe in ghosts?

Well, I got a story to tell,

if you think it’s just a joke,

I’ll share with somebody else.

 

My friend Burt, he’s quite a guy,

he’s got all the jazz ghosts,

that cat’s keeping them alive

at his home, down on K C road.

 

But I’m ‘chillin’ out here in the snow,

want to get to Burt’s pad,

listen to the beat of his ghosts,

hosting that bebop jazz.

 

Just need a ride, a bit of time, 

promise to pay you back,

got to get to his place by nine,

come on, cut me some slack.

 

(chorus)

Hey brother can you spare me a ride,

wanna catch that Birdman’s tracks at Burt’s pad.

Don’t got nothing to hide,

but that jitterbug jazz at Burt’s pad

 

He’s got some ‘stompin’ c.d.s,

couple bottles of wine,

word is, he’s in tune with the beat,

makes those ghosts come alive.

 

Can’t bring back those legends of jazz,

but you hear the ghostly rhythms

‘keepin’ Burt at his pad,

the ghosts he’s holding ransom.

 

Monk’s piano, Coltrane’s saxophone,

Rene’s guitar, Mingus on bass,

Miles Davis and his blue notes,

Charlie’s lip streaming Jack Kerouac.

 

Find them all at Burt’s hall of fame,

with this lift, don’t forget

you had a ball, on the beatnik plane,

a request, you won’t regret.

 

(Chorus)

Hey brother can you spare me a ride,

‘wanna’ catch that Birdman’s tracks at Burt’s pad.

Don’t got nothing to hide

but that jitterbug jazz at Burt’s pad

 

In no time, your two feet ‘gonna’ be

‘tappin’ to the rhythm,

shimmy shag twisting to the beat,

as you hear the summons

 

with your head ‘boppin’ back and forth,

in tune with Melody,

witness your soul’s calling force,

in midnight blue mysteries.

 

What did you say?  You can’t go?

‘cuz’ you’re saving face,

keeping the faith in Mr. Jones?

Afraid of his backlash?

 

Don’t know what you’re missing out on,

for me its just a ride,

but with Adly’s sax, Blakey’s drums,

could’ve had  the times of your life.

 

(chorus)

Now don’t run and hide, I hear from the other side,

The Birdman waxing dionysiac,

He’ll guide us on a ride,

Clip clopping to Topaz and back.