| The Day Dolphy Died |
| June twenty nine, sixty four, the day my music died. The more I listen, the more I find, and what I hear moves me to my core. June twenty nine, sixty four. Those who knew him, swear he was kind, they're not the types who would have lied. It makes his loss hurt even more. Through us in jazz, his music lives on, we keep his music playing, the special brand of crazy improvization. Through us he lives, though he's gone. With me, his legacy is staying, and endless source of inspiration. |
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