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Lester Left Town (Lester’s Legacy)                 W.Shorter/C.Foster

A president who gave to us
His life through his horn
He built a house inside his heart
And there was his home
In self-expression he found a way
To make his dreams come true
Communicating and innovating A pork-pie hat and saxophone
Were telling their tales
He blew that sound
Then he would glide into Lesterland
His loneliness he shared in the offering
Of what he played
An inspiration and great sensation His notes soared
In a language of distinction
With a message that was so precious
He was the spiritual father of the hip world
That ain’t no lie This Mississipi kid (boy)
Had set some trends in his time
He took to booze and ate no food
That sure was a crime
The legacy of Lester and all the gifts he left for us
Won’t be forgotton
Loved and remembered

Lester Left Town               W.Shorter Solo   C.Foster

A living poet was he no one can deny it
His thoughts were jumping
His heart was pumping out onto a sea of rhythm
From his mind and mouth to hands
The time, the tone, the chords, the changes and the melody
He was so possessed by only one thing that would take him to the moon and then back
The rhetoric of all his notes would make each ear that listened float
The phrases that came pouring with surprise
The take you slowly down to find yourself one earth
A mother of invention, who was;
Screaming away, laughing away, sighing away, crying away
Lestorian arcs of sound were singing away
Twisting and bubbling and biting and dipping
Down into the depths along a path
Where only he had dared to let his soul escape and run free
A pigeon-toed walk and a voice that made the music world
Stand still and just admire his concept
The bells of heaven were heard
The glue and ether of existence was his musical persistence
And a power to share with us his fragile disposition
Lady Day heard him play and she was blown away
All of the lyrics that he conveyed
Improvisation, sophistication and imagination oozed out from this man
He was cool
The coolest cat of all
His sound echoed the greatest war
The one within himself
A forest of emotions
He had found the highest goal of art and life
The hot school, not bop school
Was were Young had his roots
Prez covered the waterfront
Through his pain and pleasure
Embellishing each tear and smile
And so he leaves us now to learn from all the beauty that he made
The Pres-ence of a man
Leapin’ in but always bouncing back.


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