Satchmo

Satchmo! Satchmo!
Dressed to the nines!
The nines, I say!
You? You nowhere near them nines, boy!
Threes. Fours. Maybe fives if you shine up them shoes.
Me, I be the sevens. Gonna take me all day, but I wanna be the eights one day.
But the nines?
Hell no. Satchmo the nines and I ain’t Satchmo.
Once, I done seen Satchmo, and he was the tens.
No shit! Tens.
Blowin his horn, catchin the light.
Tens.
I asked Satchmo, but he just laughed.
When you dressed to the nines, everything is nines.
Blow that horn! Blow that horn, Satchmo!