Voyle Gilmore - The Lip lyrics

Down on the Mississippi River in a knockdo* dive I met a trumpet playin' character and Man alive! When he began to rip, he really played it from the hip And when I asked about his name, they told me, "That's 'The Lip'." Yip yip yip yip No one plays high notes like The Lip He's got a tone that's reminiscent of a boy named Bix He plays so high that only dogs can hear him, just for kicks And when I asked him does he read He says, "I'll tell you, hon, I read a little bit but not enough to hurt me none." Yip yip yip yip No one plays high notes like The Lip I said The Lip She must mean Ray Anthony, huh? I said The Lip No, man, she means Harry James I said The Lip You mean Louis Prima I said The Lip Noo, LIP-er-ace Yip yip yip yip No one plays high notes like The Lip I never heard a trumpet player play a note so high And I had to coax a lot before The Lip would tell me why Then he took out a little jar that's labeled 'High-note Grease' And he rubs a little every night on his mouthpiece Yip yip yip yip No one plays high notes like The Lip Listen here gal, are you kiddin' about all that 'high-note grease'? No, man, I swear, he had ten in his valise Wha', you mean he goes to the d**tore and gets them from the medecine shelf? No, some cat's told me he makes it himself Yip yip yip yip Tell us the secret of The Lip Well..you take a buketful of steam And a dozen rooster eggs And you mix 'em up gently with a bushel full of goldfish legs And ya hang 'em on a sky hook in the midnight sun Mmm and then you fry them until they're done Yip yip yip yip That's the secret of The Lip