At First It Was Just

We All Do 'do, Re, Mi,' But You Have Got To Find The Other Notes Yourself.

Love Is Talkative Passion.

I Don't Get Involved In Politics. I Just Blow My Horn.

You See, Pops, That's The Kind Of Talk That's Ruining The Music. Everyone's Trying To Do Something New, No One Trying To Learn The Fundamentals First. All Them Young Cats Playing Their Wierd Chords. And What Happens? No One's Working.

It Makes You Feel Good, Man, Makes You Forget All The Bad Things That Happen To A Negro. It Makes You Feel Wanted, And When You're With Another Tea Smoker, It Makes You Feel A Special Kinship.