My Trumpet sits on high within my mine
And tracks my courage and resolve
Too never ever forget your sound
Oh, Trumpet my trumpet, you do not care
The years I spent with little air
My throat it strangled the air I blew
Such a sound my lips could never do
Oh, trumpet my trumpet, you must have
Felt the pain, only I could know
As breath by breath and year by year
I struggled on and on in fear
The boldness that your form proclaims
Was not to be for such as me
The more I struggled to reach the sound
That carried freely round and round
With noble boldness the tongue attacks
From silver and gold made from brass
From centuries past your form evolved
To reach the ears of kings and clowns
To red hot jazz and symphonic pure
To New Orleans funeral march you cheer
My dreams are many, where you appear
I as a ghost, and grab you to blow
Something tells me I’m not alone
I chase that sound from your great bell
In dreams alone I fine you dwell
Still the sounds of you come near
And whisper sweetness to my ear