The Crooner 


It don't matter what day you’re in
they'll cry the youth don't know 
because everything was perfect then 
with that old Norman Rockwell glow

But I miss those classic pin-up girls 
with their silk stockings and cigarettes
I love listening to half-drunken blues
and all those tight jazz minuets 

And here goes that tired old crooner
with some melodious swingin' tune 
but the phonograph record is scratched 
by the sounds that grew old too soon

I love those black and white photos 
even faded and browned in age
Hell, I'd love to see them croon again
with that Big Band sound and stage 

 You know I’m a sucker for the classics
zoot suits and wide brimmed hats
padded shoulders and wide lapels 
crazy dances with notes so fat

Pachuco had its class and style 
but today's night life ain't the same
and Chicano times came and went 
man, that all slipped down the drain

You know that times are tough
when even the crime is poor
but the music will take you back 
to get lost in that sweet allure

I love the idea of what once was
with its style and class and sway
but it's just a nostalgic illusion
and it never really was that way

© Christopher Raine