Me and Jangletooth were hippin' to the jive of the ever merciful and cooth Charlie Mingus. Man did that man have sass to the nth and ever higher levels, like butterscotch dripping skyward.
Mm, but when he slow down? It's like seeing a shell-back mourning the loss of his legs and don't he ever got the blues? Mmm.
So anyways, Jangle he say to me, "Pick up the bass and slap out a happy rhyme for the walkin'. We'll pack your mirth into our back pockets and smooth it far.