Premise: I was, and still am, captivated by  Babies cry for liquor an' the birds sing bass,  and in the arrogance of my youth, I was certain that nobody else on the airfield either knew or cared who Bessie Smith was, nor would any other G.I. be enchanted by basso birds, so I turned thief.

Hypothesis: I was obsessed with that song that I played all the time as a teen.
Relation: neutral