“Hey Spot” 

     Inside a restaurant behind where Amusia played,

a smirking waiter swore he knew for sure that “It was Ray.”

The hooves of a horse kept the rhythm of her song all along Decatur Street.

They locked eyes and she was certain that he had winked right at her.

 

Inside the waiter had enough and said “I know what to do.”

“Hey spot you howl like a wounded mutt and damn look like one too!”

He palmed his ears than slammed the door and cracked up back inside.

“As sure as I play a mean keyboard, and I do that’s no lie,

Ray Charles wrote “Georgia on my mind.”