The Catlands Jazzband Gazetter

THERE’S A BIT OF THE SPOKEN VERSE, it comes rushing like a memory of words you’ve never spoken, when you find yourself humming and hawing on the long and lonesome road, far from home; dreary and bleary, with a heavy heart that keeps you going further than you should.  It says: “Dim the old campfire light and sink into slow slumber, let the torch smoke climb towards the blue-black sky and the stars…