It was such a fine spring day
|
down Lou'siana way,
|
with fragrance divine
|
and such magnificent regalia.
|
Oh, so fine,
|
Azalea.
|
|
Oh what a lovely sight,
|
in red, pink and white.
|
Can't held but believe
|
that nothing evil can assail you.
|
So naive,
|
Azalea
|
|
You're at ease on the knees
|
of the moss covered trees,
|
whose tops meet to make a high ceiling
|
in the church-like pomp
|
of the cypress swamp.
|
I've yet to get that same strange feeling.
|
|
I've got to go back there
|
and find that blossom fair
|
I always dream of.
|
'Cause with you who could be a failure?
|
My first love,
|
Azalea
|
|
-----------------
|
Azalea
|
| Louis Armstrong |
