“Do re mi fa…la la la la… Blast it!”

“Rockin, that ain’t right. Whatchu doin’? You tha man! You a mockin’bird. You can sing anything.”

“Yeah, well, I forgot the notes, okay! You’re a crow. You’re smart. I heard you can learn up to six tricks.”

“Okay, I can, but I can’t sing a note. Ain’t nothin’ pretty ‘bout caw caw caw!”

“Well, I can’t sing if I can’t remember the notes, and by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, why’d your mama name you Mozart?”

“’cause she thought it was funny. So, I go by Mo. Don’t call me no Mozart. Call me Mo.”

“Okay, Mo. Hey, since you’re so smart, can you just say the notes for me? You don’t have to sing ‘em.”

“Good thing, ‘cause I can’t.  Lessee, um, I b’lieve it go, do re mi fa so la ti do. Yeah, das it.”

“Right! Thanks, Mo. I owe you one.”

“Any time, buddy. Just gimme a CAW.” Ha ha ha ha