Catlands Jazzband Gazeteer + PDF

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 twinkling like fireflies in deep, dirty love. Let the memories of gloom fall into the river that climbs across the land like a stumble-drunk child, leading always and only into the blissful waters found under the moon.  Lay down your sleepy head, and all your burdens. You’re lost, but the music is calling to your soul and it tells you that down here by this old river you’ll never again study war or feel that need to climb a mountain tall. This is a place of comfort you’ll find, do a service to kit and cat in kind, and all will be well, and all will be swell, once Catland makes you mine.” No