Some of my best friends are old crocks. No offense meant–I hope to be an old crock someday. Besides, I tend to think they’re right when they grumble about how things ain’t what they used to be. But if you’re one of those Gershwin-loving Luddites who thinks nobody knows how to write a really smart song lyric anymore, kindly go here.
Johnny Mercer it isn’t, but I still can’t get this song out of my head.