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And when the trumpets used to blast.
I remember when the saxophones dared to squeak
And when the drummer used to rush.
I remember when the guitar wailed
And sounded over the band.
I remember when the piano would comp
And when the bass went wild.
I remember the days before the singer
And when our band sounded good.
I remember when the trumpets made comments
To everyone across the room.
Now they just laugh to themselves
Not sharing their jokes with the rest of us.
I remember when the trombones
Threw their mutes around their section.
Now they put them on the floor
Never again to play dodge ball.
I remember when the saxophones played
Much higher than they should
And instead of notes came squeaks
Now they play as quiet as they possibly can.
I remember when the drummer added
Fills, rolls, and crashes to his part.
Now he can barely keep the beat
Playing too quiet for even his own ears.
I remember how our guitar
Would turn up the amp
And take wild solos
Now he sits and plays chords
Forgetting the key changes
And changing the notes
I remember when I could go nuts
Making up whatever I wanted
As long as it fit the chord symbols
On piano, and be praised
Now, I have to play a quiet melody
Following the singer’s cues.
I remember when the bass could comp
And play notes as low as he wished
Now he has to play notes
That follow the beat
I remember how out band used to sound good
Then the singer came and took our fun away.
I remember when the trombones used to be loud
And when the trumpets used to blast.
I remember when the saxophones dared to squeak
And when the drummer used to rush.
I remember when the guitar wailed
And sounded over the band.
I remember when the piano would comp
And when the bass went wild.
I remember the days before the singer
And when our band sounded good.