| Calm down Nica
|
| You don’t have to wait outside
|
| Of the Stanhope for the doctor
|
| Charlie Parker woke up in
|
| Your apartment, on the sofa
|
| And he’ll be fine, once he’s walked it off
|
| And he’ll meet you, in the front row
|
| Of the Five Spot around midnight
|
| So load up the Bentley
|
| And bring the hollowed-out bible
|
| With the whiskey, 52nd Street
|
| No phone calls from the cops or from
|
| Your family can reach you
|
| They all know you, you’re famous in
|
| Your fur coat, with Thelonius
|
| The high priest and the baroness
|
| The cats all called you a butterfly
|
| But that’s not quite right
|
| Pannonica is a moth
|
| Known to come alive in the dark of night
|
| She might flutter by your table
|
| She might whisper something secret in your ear
|
| «You only need to hear one piece of advice
|
| Each of us only gets one life»
|
| So calm down Nica
|
| You don’t have to drive on down
|
| to Baltimore, anymore
|
| The Cabaret Card’s waiting
|
| in the morning mail, your mercy missions
|
| for musicians didn’t fail
|
| The young years, they are over
|
| You’re forever black, brown, beige
|
| The bebop baroness
|
| The cats all called you a butterfly
|
| But that’s not quite right
|
| Pannonica is a moth
|
| Known to come alive in the dark of night
|
| She might flutter by your table
|
| She might whisper something secret in your ear
|
| «You only need to hear one piece of advice
|
| Each of us only gets one life»
|
| Nica spent hers flying
|
| She was freer than the French
|
| She always said,
|
| «Just listen to the music, man,
|
| And throw your heart over the fence,
|
| And the rest will follow» |