Hey baby, I sat here in Costco
Heard the worshipping voices of prosperity,
Wondered at the ending of meaning
When I brushed against your message from long ago.

You may be dead and gone
But sure as hell not
From my heart
As I hear your voice
My friend your voice
Of Scotch fueled Jazz
Till 3 O in the morn

Then the message ends.
But not our memory,
Fran you wild woman
What do I do without your insane sanity?

I'll never listen to Oscar, Trane, Miles,
Or any of our faves,
Without laughing with you.
Message received
Message ends
Scotch & Jazz flies baby . . .
You listening?
Yeah baby, yeah.