LESTER TRAINED TO PLAY THE TRUMPET

Lester was trained to play the trumpet,
He could only play slow, and couldn’t hump it,
Only fast music could please,
All the dance party sleaze,
Lester then took his trumpet to dump it.

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.

MY SWEATY CORNET

It seemed like for my old cornet, all the notes did melt,

For steaming hot was parade day, and that my cornet felt,

My lips got drip, dry parched, 

The notes got damaged as we marched,

When the parade was finally done, I had a root beer belt.

A BANANA MUTED MY TOOT

My trumpet I tried and tried to make toot,
It didn't work because it was stuffed with a fruit,
It seems my dear nanna,
Didn't like her banana,
The fruit fit my trumpet but, not grandpa's flute.

A BANANA MUTED MY TOOT

My trumpet, I tried and tried to make toot,
It didn't work because it was stuffed with a fruit,
It seems my dear nanna,
Didn't like her banana,
The fruit fit my trumpet but not grandpa's flute.

I COULD NOT PLAY MY TOOT, TOOT, TOOT

I could not play my toot, toot, toot,
My trumpet was broken but, not my flute,
Hence, I sounded a peep, peep, peep,
Which made the conductor weep, weep, weep,
So, out of the orchestra I got the boot.

I COULD NOT PLAY MY TOOT, TOOT, TOOT

I could not play my toot, toot, toot,
My trumpet was broken but, not my flute,
Hence, I sounded a peep, peep, peep,
Which made the conductor weep, weep, weep,
So, out of the orchestra I got the boot.

THE NIGHT BEFORE MORN

I turned my dark, night backyard into day,

With my sodium light display,

And, with my gas grill before the morn,

I toasted wieners and roasted corn,

Then, I got out my trumpet and blew that horn.

THE UNCLE JAY JAY RHYMES

My uncle Jay Jay,

Bleached his toupee,

Now his hair is all white,

Like his daddy Ray Ray,

My uncle Jay Jay,

Played his trumpet all day,

Then, went fishing at night,

Out on Grand Traverse Bay,

My uncle Jay Jay,

Once played in a band at night,

But, with the jazz flutist,

Had a fist fight,

My uncle Jay Jay,

Didn't like the sound of the flute,

For any woodwinds he did not give a hoot,

He said only a brass horn could give a good toot,

My uncle Jay Jay,

Left this world with the tide,

In the next world he's sitting all full of pride,

Making toot in a brass band of trumpets and slide.     

  

MR. MEADE WAS AN INSTRUMENTAL STAR

Mr. Meade was truly a rare instrumental star,
He played "Flight of the Bumblebee" on trumpet or guitar,
He played in Chicago and New Orleans,
And, in Japan and the Philippines,
From a poor small town he really went far.