THE JAZZ BAND

I rocked out with tones on my electric guitar,

In a jazz band that played at a hillbilly bar,

We had a great base,

His solos were ace,

Our drummer was so poor, he lived under my car.

WITH TONE AND CONE, I WON FIRST BONE

I auditioned for the local orchestra, to play 1st chair trombone,

I played a song called "Om Papa", with my bone muted by a mute cone,

It took a little while, 

For my " Om Papa" style,

To captivate the judges, with my interpretation, style and tone.

MY FLUGELHORN PAID FOR RENT AND FOOD

All I want for Christmas is a brand new flugelhorn,

A truck ran over my old one, and made my horn unborn,

I play my horn at the corner and get tossed one cent,

When I get enough pennies, I go and pay my rent,

If I have money left over, I can sup on canned cream corn.

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CRUSHED DREAMS OF THE CELLIST

My cello was run over by a sports car,

It's destroyed, now I won't be a cellist star,

I thought it wouldn't get injured,

So it was never insured,

I went from concerts, to tending a dive bar.

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BROTHER BRAT

My trumpet notes are really flat,

Since my brother beat it with a bat,

He beat my oboe on the floor,

And slammed my trombone in ma's truck door,

My big brother is a bully brat.

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UNHINGED TRUMPETER

Tory the 1st chair trumpeter, became quite unhinged,

Because on Johann S. Bach, all night she super binged,

Her lips were sore,

Her tongue was tore,

She started Toccata and Fugue, and her fingers cringed.

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THE ROCK NESTERS

I listened to the band, Rock Nesters, when I was a tween, rage boy,

They were an aging birdie band, but they sang of true love and joy,

The Rock Nesters Band, 

Toured across the land,

They should have lasted longer, but each loved their manager,

 Coy Roy.  

MY PICCOLO VS A TRUMPET CARILLON

A trumpet carillon played all through the night,
They kept me awake which started a fight,
But their brass horns hit true,
Making me all black and blue,
And, up my nose my piccolo fit real tight.

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MY TRUMPETER'S LULLABY SAID, "NIGHT, NIGHT", LONG AGO

I stored away my trumpet, for the last thirteen odd years,

I got it out to play, but it just made noise to my ears,

My lips are all soft blubber,

And my tongue, solid rubber,

I did sound much better after I drank one million beers.

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THE CHOIRMASTER

I directed the local, township choir,

For each tunes perfection, I did aspire,

If the notes sounded extremely bad,

I sent email, with emoji, sad,

And did a check of each piano wire.

ONE HIT WONDER, RISE AND FALL

I was once a superstar, a regular one hit wonder,

I really cranked and blew out the ear buds, with righteous thunder,

I made eyeballs bleed,

I gave minds a feed,

Then came along my prettier version, and I went under.

THE ORGAN GRINDER

Jim the organ grinder, made tunes from his organ grinding pipes, 

He sold bananas on the street corner, two different types,

His noise brought customers in,

To select bananas, from his bin,

He divided his bananas into green ones, and the ripes.

DOOMSCROLLING WITH MY BROTHER

My big brother was doomscrolling all day long,

Brother was playing, some doomscrolling sad song,

It was a real catchy tune,

I started doomscrolling soon,

It felt good, to how the world had gone wrong.

THE TOAD, FROG TONGUE SONG SUNG

I once knew a toad, and he was very young,

He had a toad body, but a long, frog tongue,

His tongue lashed out to the sky,

As he caught every fly,

That's when I wrote down, this new song I just sung.

PIKE, BETSY AND MIKE

I write all of my limericks, listening to "Sweet Betsy From Pike",

That is why in my school records, they described me as a sick"psych",

I loved that old ditty, since I was a young tike,

I'd listen to it, when I drove my  motorbike,

At night I would sing a rendition, to my squirrel friend, Big Mike.

I AM THE BOWLER, WEB TROLLER, AND SCROLLER OF DOOM

I spend all my day, economic doomscrolling,

I spend most all evenings, amateur bowling,

I play my new flute, it's a Pan,

Spoon garbanzo beans from a can,

When feeling real mean, I go online, web trolling.

MAYNARD AND THE COPYRIGHT

Maynard practiced each day, and locked into playing, his Pan flute,

He played a lot of copyright music, and got a lawsuit,

Soon, Maynard was very poor,

Pawned his flute at a pawn store,

Maynard found a stick he tried to play, but failed to make it toot.

I BOUGHT THREE FLUTES

I bought three flutes to play, but I can only play one flute, that is mine,

So I hired two more players, so we could play three parts that combine,

One flute toots high, the other low,

The center part, is where I go,

Our spreading fame landed us a gig, at a fried chicken dine and wine.

I CAME IN LAST IN THE TRUMPET BLOW

I played in the trumpet competition, and came in number nine,

My teacher said I sounded o.k., my mama said I did fine,

Being judged number nine out of eight,

Is a very hard to figure fate,

I think that the judges blended tequila, with their apple wine.

I ENTERTAIN WITH MY LIPS

I was up on the main stage, showing off my whistling ways,

I whistle real good, and at major concert venues, it pays,

I whistled, "Sweet Mary From Pike",

That's a tune, they usually like,

This audience was grumpy, because of technical delays.