Excellent Jazz Music. Organic Sounds by John Pittman

Sticks spinning and fingers rippling across the keys a rhythmic motion unyielding to lips bellowing over a reed slapping, rapping across the bass Slim is trying to keep the pace heads start to jerk while feet start to chatter across a wooden floor of echoed patters. Golden women wafting in the sounds Wanting the ground to release their souls as they swing their arms around Its time they say time for the rubber man with his rubber hands to strike like lighting welling over the tones over the werguitar moans where fingered drones roam like unwilling marinates their bodies strike to form in mobs, in swarms they listen as organic, spasmodic sounds whip them around and they float on whispers of musical drifters who tell stories of a town and their wisher the crowd now thinner they thank the vender and they smile for a while in their Kodakian splendor.

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