This is not a posh and rush hotel or restaurant
But, still ordinary people having good fun.
Middle-aged men, who are playing great music,
With their grey hairs, yet they can create a jazzy kick
Odeon: who are young, Old, strong and weak
Who all seem to enjoy with the jazz-kick
At a middle table, nine ladies for me are too many
Strangely it makes me think something canny
If I shake my head to them like an artificial gem
Do they think of me being slightly funny?
And waiters may charge for this extra money
Why don’t people think about normality just like me?
All those nine ladies watching the jazzmen not me
While I was watching only the ladies-top music stop?
Which might be the end of my head shaking hope
If those ladies turn around to look at me: how will I cope?
Then nine ladies started talking loudly
Some are showing generously their tender belly
No booking, no cooking, keep quiet, don’t be silly
No point, who will understand your educated by willy?
What a pity by looking I cannot understand them
Who are good, bad and which one is a real gem?
Still all people are not noisy some are deadly quiet
Which might be after being married so many years
It seems clear not much is left for tonight
By doing two things at once, I get double the fun
Those grey-jazzmen still doing a great run
While I am in a good mood I raise their rate
But I cannot predict those bubbling ladies’ fate
Jazz started to play again, which make me more relax
Is there any point sending laughing ladies a winking fax?