that I wanted, just out of reach
like the last pringle, hung open in the store.
Needed one for myself
not sure what, but something more.

It stood there, with the patience of a statue.
If I had that horn, what I could play,
what I could accomplish
if I took it down from where it lay.

The look, the shine,
of the silver chassis;
mixed with the rose brass,
how nice it would be to look that classy.

Oh, if I had that horn
playing would be a breeze;
or so I thought
but a myriad of subtleties lay beyond the black pearl keys