I envy songwriters who can generate free form lyrics spontaneously. I wish it were otherwise, but I am far too self-conscious and literal for my own good. If only I were able to leave room for interpretation, but it ain’t me, babe. Still, you gotta sing about something, which is why I gravitate towards story songs, like this one. I played trombone back in high school, and I bought a used trumpet in 1983 for $75. Both can be heard in this recording. I am pretty sure if it’s a song with me playing horns, you can bet the key signature is Grade Nine trombone-friendly.
Lyrics
West town bus left right on time today, eight-oh-seven Friday morning / Out of breath I reach the bus stop late, with the rain drops falling without warning / Punching in at half past nine, I'm soaking wet and feeling fine / And my boss will swear but I just don’t care since that momentary glance I shared with you / Day is done and all I’ve done today is think about you in this hard town / Standing there beside your handsome friends sipping Champagne with your guard down / Across the floor your soft eyes came, just as though I’d called your name / And I felt you there like an answered prayer in that momentary glance I shared with you / Well maybe I’m a fool to think you might / Maybe it was all just a trick of light / But until this dream runs dry there’ll be no asking why I’m high as a kite / And a heart lies bare but I’m unaware since that momentary glance I shared with you