My Jam

Don’t give me no lip, Just lend me your ears. You ask me how did I not trip On life through the years. Here, my friend, is what I do. This is the secret I give to you. When I am down and all alone, When the skies are gray and weary, I work my fingers to the bone And play my cheery melody eerie. Pop! Slam! Bam! Yeah, I can jam. I can change my style Like the leaves in October. I can entrance and beguile, Or I can leave you sober. My jam is Mozart with his turns and trills, Kander and Elfman with their slides and frills. In my mind I hear the sounds Of orchestras and rock bands. They play the stars and battlegrounds Like waves crashing against the rocky lands. The music I hear bolts from the blue. The music I play takes the wind out of you.