Jazz Street - Timothy B. Schmit

When the feeling is lost I can find it

I go down to a street I know

It’s a place where they live to unwind it

They lay back and just keep rolling

Sax man steps right out

Doesn’t care who hears it

Gypsy bass picks a place where it’s working

The drummer lays out some real life rhythm

When this old soul needs clearing

I stay until they bring me back

It ain’t the radio

Living to play, you know

Down on jazz street

(meet me down on jazz street, yeah)

This ain’t your hollywood

They really do it good

Down on jazz street

Down on jazz street there’s one kind of people

Love the truth and they hate the jive

It’s a church though it don’t have a steeple

They’re the ones who know what this life is

Down here they step out

They don’t care who feels it

Every time they set me (to) flying

Seen them raise up the dead and dying

When your old heart is weary

They’ll give you everything you lack

So when your soul needs clearing

Go down where they can bring you back

It ain’t the radio

Living to play, you know

Down on jazz street