That little trumpet has lost sound
Go ahead and ask around
Picked up in a house I found
Nesting on the burial ground.
Contorted notes filled the room
After a dusting with the broom
False promise joined in soon.
Perched upon a dim lit flume
The night slipped by, no refrain
It blasted on through the pouring rain
Howled on in the excruciating pain
Of having sheltered existence through a life in vain
When daylight came, it was still the same
Brass with no name, playing for a dame
Really quite the shame, an ever-growing flame
Held within a picture frame, was a revitalized search for fame
As darkness came, I grew tired
Felt like it was about time I retired
Set down the trumpet I acquired
And left the shack feeling quite expired
There that little trumpet lost sound
Now there’s no need to ask around
Left it in the house I found
Somewhat near the burial ground.
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
That little trumpet has lost sound
Go ahead and ask around
Picked up in a house I found
Nesting on the burial ground.
Contorted notes filled the room
After a dusting with the broom
False promise joined in soon.
Perched upon a dim lit flume
The night slipped by, no refrain
It blasted on through the pouring rain
Howled on in the excruciating pain
Of having sheltered existence through a life in vain
When daylight came, it was still the same
Brass with no name, playing for a dame
Really quite the shame, an ever-growing flame
Held within a picture frame, was a revitalized search for fame
As darkness came, I grew tired
Felt like it was about time I retired
Set down the trumpet I acquired
And left the shack feeling quite expired
There that little trumpet lost sound
Now there’s no need to ask around
Left it in the house I found
Somewhat near the burial ground.
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