Jazzman - Carole King

Jazzman
Jazzman


Carole King




- - - -
Lift me, won't you lift me
Above the old routine;
Make it nice, play it clean,
Jazzman.
When the jazzman's testifyin'
A faithless man believes
He can sing you into paradise
Or bring you to your knees.
It's a gospel kind of feelin',
A touch of Georgia slide,
A song of pure revival
And a style that's sanctified.
Jazzman
Take my blues away;
Make my pain the same as yours
With every change you play.
Jazzman, oh jazzman.
When the jazzman's signifyin'
And the band is windin' low.
It's the late night side of morning
In the darkness of his soul.
He can fill a room with sadness
As he fills his horn with tears.
He can cry like a fallen angel
When risin' time is near.
Jazzman
Take my blues away;
Make my pain the same as yours
With every change you play.
Oh lift me, won't you lift me
With ev'ry turn around;
Play it sweetly,
Take me down,
Oh jazzman.