Trumpet Man
Trees of green, paths of white
Songbirds birds caught in flight
Violence, drugs and the homeless man
This is where it all began
For a man of music playing his song
He comes here now where he belongs
Jazz man with a trumpet sound
Playing blues to a gentle crowd
Chorus:
He sees no vision in his path
He says “this song will be my last”
They sing on and on for him to live
They sing along to his gentle hymn
He has no life he has no smile
He comes here for a while
Alone with his antique chair
And his cheap fare to share
Music of black and white
For the Songbirds birds caught in flight
Returning here for the homeless man
This is where it all began
Chorus:
He sees no vision in his path
He says “this song will be my last”
They sing on and on for him to live
They sing along to his gentle hymn
He will die now, so soon
As they remember his soulful tune
And as the song birds are caught in flight
This is where it ends tonight
Trees of green, paths of white
Songbirds caught in flight
Violence, drugs and the homeless man
Come, they cheer for the trumpet man
Repeat Chorus
