TONY
Frank Sinatra sang for the lonely Dean flirted and scored Sammy was a one-man show But Tony Bennett was something else. Tony was a swinging cool cat With a growl and a purr He was a schooner gliding at 100 knots on a cloudless day where the sun likes to jump and jive He was a rocket ship blasting towards the milky way daddio He was a street kid stomping through puddles on a rainy day He was a late-night after hours jazz club When the cooking was just getting started A splayed bow tie and a sweaty brow leaning on a baby grand ready to prowl the alley of sound with Bill Evans He was a preacher at the pulpit of pop who snapped to the verse and flew a chorus like a kite in flight He was the boutonniere The Beau Brummel pinkie ring The diamond pin on a sleeping lapel He was as Italian as Calabria and as American as the songbook He was the spotlight The stage at Carnegie Hall The crooner who probably would have sung for nothing if the stars hadn't aligned. He was the thump of