This singing happens
organically, spontaneously. I don’t plan it. Is it an expression of my inner
happiness, or is it something I subconsciously do to induce happiness? Is it a
cause or an effect? Doesn’t matter.

My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say, “I’m gonna be like you, dad
You know I’m gonna be like you.…” 

Sometimes I realize that I’m
singing and reflect upon it. I become happier still about the fact that I
remain capable of experiencing spontaneous joy despite my circumstances. Strong
medicine, this singing in the shower.

Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take you to
Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama
Key Largo Montego, baby why don’t we go
Ooh I wanna take you down to
Kokomo, we’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow
That’s where we wanna go, way down in Kokomo.… 

As long as these old songs continue
to have this effect on me, I think I’m in great shape. If I stop singing,
that’s when I’ll worry. 

Every time I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face getting clearer
The past is gone
It goes by, like dusk to dawn
Isn’t that the way
Everybody’s got their dues in life to pay… 

I am the world’s worst singer.
For that reason, you’ll never hear me sing unless it’s in the shower, in which
case I may feel compelled to ask you what the hell you’re doing in my shower.