Sunday 16 January 2011

the music man

He gives out a shout ,

To all those that’s out

To friends, neighbours, and family ties

Its been a little while since we all dun sat together
Traded music stories and laughed together
The old man stands in the room, in the middle
Frayed sting for a belt tied around his middle

He shoes done walked for a fair few years

And his old flat cap mopped up a fair few tears
Till all of them came over
Rakia poured out till they just pass sober


All the kids run round man and cant sit down

Cuz they just spread the word round town

Come to ours its the one by the factory that’s falling down

The music mans back and he’s learned a few new sounds

He brought back a pal and they made a band


Hes got

old skool rugged working hands

That shook hands with plenty good and a few bad man

sat an sieved a while through times old sands


Yet hear he stands

Hold up his hands

Ushers a lill quite from the folk around

Then warms up his tired old trumpet hands

Prepares to play a riff on the trumpet

it’s the music man

And its the trumpet passed down from man to man,

He picked up from his very own old man

The one who’s picture hangs on the wall right now

And resides over all that goes down


And in the room right now,

Not but a few bits a change to rub together between all the fam

But none of that matters coz up he stands

And calls for quiet


“Its been a long time since we last sat down,

Since I walked the streets of our fair village and round

since then I sat in a fair few seats

And these two old ears picked up on plenty beats

And these old shoes have seen 1000’s a streets

I sat

In the back

Of a flat back truck

With my trumpet wedged between two pigs and a duck

Crossed 18 borders and never got stuck

Trains and boats and hitch hiked much

Dubrovnik ta Prague to the red light Amsterdam


To the city of seven hill I came rolling down


Stepped in the Vatican city and they kicked me out coz the sound of my trumpet was well to loud


I blew tunes at the royal opera house,

You know that road out the back where they all catch the cabs



Jus me my trumpet and some change sat in the bottom of my old flat cap.


From the east where we all sit now

To the west, where they can’t sit down

just to listen to a music man

I would stand on the corner trumpet in hand

And play a grove so deep it would knock you down


Most couldn’t stop so they just keep walking,

Walking and talking

Talking and talking bout business meetings

and business seating, and business evenings

and they were so busy they couldn’t meet the next big meeting


but


on occasion

someone would stop,

not a lot

but someone would stop

forget about all they stuff and just watch

as a I clinched my trumpet that was way too warn out

to the tune of time

man I blazed it out

Playing the tunes that we would all dance to

The time honoured rhythms that our parents moved to

The sound of a world so far away

The language was hard but we had much to say

I couldn’t say
So I just let the trumpet play



it spoke of peace, and freedom

His business suite told of freedom long gone

His briefcase said Ill do whatever it takes

And his wallet says I carefully calculate

Every move I make

And even thought he was late

He slowly said I work a job I hate,

And this business man he said I’ve made too many mistakes

But trumpet kept on playing a sound

That said you can still be that man,

And that dream you once had but put away for the plans

Well my man maybe now’s the time


All of a sudden there back in that same old room

6 x 8 doorstep covers in shoes

Nobody can move

Too many bodies to move

They all stare at the music man they eyes glued

As he reached down to his warn out black bag

A boy shout

"Is that it?”, but he just laugh’s

In flash man just pulls it out

That beaten broken warn out trumpet

One that’s seen forever and came back just to re work it


Next to him,

his friend he met in the west

But this time he’s not wearing his business best

Torn jeans and a shirt open over a vest

And those shoulders that held up a world of stress

Now hold the frame of a man that’s blessed

Out the bag he picks up an 18 year old clarinet

And the pair prepare for the world’s greatest duet

Their eyes catch for moment how could they forget

transported to the corner on which they first met

A pavement that so many miles from here

Business man’s eyes fill with a heartfelt tear

Coz

Thing, they aren’t the same round here

Yet people smile as the sun goes down round here

The room erupts in anticipation clear


And music man says.



Ok



Listen here.............

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