Carole King - Jazzman

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.