
[Intro – Spoken, smoky jazz club] Ladies and gentlemen… From the backstreets of Chicago… To the bright lights of Hollywood… There was one man who could make the whole world stop and listen… So raise your glass… And let the trumpet play. [Verse 1] Down on 42nd, when the midnight rain was falling, A silver trumpet echoed through the street, Gangsters in their pinstripe suits came calling, Movie stars came dancing to the beat. At the corner table sat a man with a fedora, Diamond shining underneath the light, But when that trumpet started talking to the city, Every tough guy suddenly felt alright. [Chorus] 🎺 He played his trumpet for the people, For the famous and unknown, For the gangsters and the actors, For the kings without a throne. From the jazz clubs to the bright lights, From the boulevard to Harlem town, When that golden trumpet started singing, Even the whole world settled down. [Verse 2] Hollywood would whisper, “Get the trumpet player,” Every star wanted his name upon the bill, He played for dancers, writers and directors, Played until the room itself stood still. A movie queen would sit beside a gangster, A famous singer laughing at the bar, And nobody cared about the headlines, When his trumpet carried everyone that far. [Bridge – Slow, romantic] He didn’t ask you who you were, He didn’t care how much you made, A heart was just a heart to him, And every soul could hear him play. From smoky rooms in New York City, To Paris underneath the moon, His trumpet crossed a thousand borders, And made strangers dance in tune. [Trumpet Solo – 16 bars] Ba-da-ba… ba-da-baaa… Doo-wah… doo-wah… Ba-da-da-da… BAAAH! 🎺 [Verse 3] The forties turned into the fifties, And the world began to change its clothes, But underneath the neon signs and marquees, That same familiar melody still rose. Presidents could hear it, stars could hear it, Rich men heard it from their tables of gold, But somewhere in a little bar downtown, A lonely man heard exactly what he was told. [Chorus – Bigger] 🎺 He played his trumpet for the people, For the famous and unknown, For the gangsters and the actors, For the kings without a throne. He played for lovers, played for dreamers, Played for sinners on the run, And when the final note was ringing, You could feel the morning sun. [Outro – Slow trumpet & piano] So if you hear a trumpet somewhere, Late at night when streets are still, Maybe he’s still playing somewhere… Maybe he always will. For the gangster… For the movie star… For the stranger passing by… He played for everybody. And everybody knew his song. 🎺 Ba-da-baaa… Fade out with muted trumpet.
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