MOG

Hoist up a few tall cool ones, play some pool and listen

And deal the cards, roll the dice, if it ain't that old Chuck E Weiss

Make sure that there's a Dixie moon, New Orleans, I'll be there
Arm-in-arm down Burgundy, a bottle and my friends and me
And by the whiskers on my chin, New Orleans, I'll be there
And I can hear the band begin, 'When the saints go marching in'

And Claiborne Avenue, me and you Sam Jones and all
And wear the dress I like so well, and meet me at the old saloon
And I wish I was in New Orleans, I can see in my dreams
The old haunts what I wants is red beans and rice
I'll drink you under the table, be a red-nosed, go for walks
To that tenor saxophone calling me home