From the recording Dangerous Love (Vol. 1)

Featuring Tom Scott



Somewhere, I don’t know where
There must be instructions
Searched a billion pages on the internet
But I’m left like all my brothers
To my own deductions
And I swear to God, I ain’t found nothing yet!
See, when it comes to this lady there’s
Just no prediction
No direction you can get your head around
The behavior and the attitude is more like fiction –
Far less likely to be grasped, than to confound
Just when I think I’ve aligned it,
She slips through my fingers
It’s astonishing the surfaces she has
‘Least I’ve finally found a metaphor
That does define it:
Oh, oh
My baby’s like jazz
My baby’s like jazz

Little kitten clad in cotton can be nonsequential
Unpredictable, her vast polarity
Can be hard to map as nanotech
She’s quintessentially
An exercise in singularity
There’s the Eskimo in August
There’s December’s temptress
There’s the Thorn inside my pillow
And whereas,
I can never quite distil her
She’s my pussy willow
Oh, Oh,
My baby’s like Jazz
My baby’s like Jazz

The lesson of this reflection:
If you seek perfection,
You are bund for places you don’t wanna go
I prefer to leave the questions to nature’s selection
Let the mystery and the process be the show
So I just stand back and watch it play
In all its’ glory
It’s unstoppable the power that she has
She’s as fundamental as the wind
And never boring
Oh, Oh,
My baby’s like Jazz
My baby’s like Jazz

She walks like jazz
She talks like jazz
She thinks like jazz
She moves like jazz
She makes love like jazz
The lady’s like jazz

Words and Music by Richard Baskin