ta ta ta
doo doo doo
sha sha sha
boom boom pow
uhhuh uh uh
why… why… why…

yo yo yo
emm emm em
na na na
la la la
yea yea yea
why… why… why…

ohohohoh
ta ta ta
ts ts ts
lolo-bang-lolo
powpowpow
why… why… why…

scat scat pow
ta ta boom
doo doo ts
yo yo bang
uh uh lolo
You know why… You know why…

doo doo doo
uhhuh uh uh
sha sha sha
yo yo yo
boom boom pow
why… why… why…

la la la
na na na
emm emm em
yea yea yea
ta ta ta
why… why… why…

ts ts ts
lolo-bang-lolo
yo yo yo
uhhuh uh uh
powpowpow
why… why… why…

scat scat pow
ta ta boom
doo doo ts
yo yo bang
uh uh lolo
You know why… You know why…

bap bap bap
zoo zoo zaa
tik tik tak
rum rum rah
kee kee koo
vow vow vuh
nah nah neh
chik chik chow
grr grr gah
fah fah fee
rip rip roo
skrr skrr skaa
whoo whoo wah
why… you know why…
why… you know why…

scat scat pow
ta ta boom
doo doo ts
yo yo bang
uh uh lolo
You know why… You know why…

bap bap bap
zoo zoo zaa
tik tik tak
rum rum rah
kee kee koo
vow vow vuh
nah nah neh
chik chik chow
grr grr gah
fah fah fee
rip rip roo
skrr skrr skaa
whoo whoo wah
why… you know why…
why… you know why…

all rights reserved by Songwriter Edwin H. Balder 

More flavors from Spumoni:  https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/spumoni?si=8aeb7d0bb9f74c6ba36b7cb42121525d&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Why...Why... by Spumoni

In the shadows of Apache Junction, at the foot of the majestic Superstition Mountains, sits a weathered hacienda. This desert oasis is home to an enigmatic figure, a songwriter whose journey reads like a long, dusty road of honky-tonk bars and college cafeterias. He wasn't chasing fame or glitter; instead, he chose the soul-crushing beauty of music for music's sake.

Years spent hunched over sticky barroom tables and scribbling lyrics on napkins earned him a reputation—not in the spotlight but in the back rooms where deals are made. He wrote melodies that found their way into the hearts of stars who had lost their own muse. He sold his creations for cash, with no recognition, but the whisper of his songs carried the weight of his soul.

Finally, he bought this piece of desert paradise—a stable income from his timeless songs allowed him to live comfortably, if anonymously. Here in this hacienda, with his family beside him and the mountains as his backdrop, he found the peace to write hits under his own name. He chuckled at the irony that now, without chasing fame, he could create music that brought him joy.

In the end, it was never about the spotlight. It was about the journey, the stories, and the songs that wrote themselves through his life. As the sun set behind the Superstitions, casting long shadows over the hacienda, he strummed his guitar and sang—content, unknown, and unburdened by the world's gaze.


Copyright 2019 Edwin H. Balder

I may be dead when fame comes but my real glory was always JULIE & The Kids. Thank you for such love

Why...Why... by Spumoni

Edwin Balder