Turn Away

Turn away from the trumpeter they're tattling your tune Turn away from the bow string bass butchering your bloom Turn away from the melancholy music that abounds I don't believe how sweet it sounds Turn away from conducting arms they're cueing now to start Turn away from the tenor sax emptying your heart Turn away from someone younger singing Golden Brown I don't believe how sweet it sounds Turn away from the faint applause that's coming from within Turn away from the critic's eye and take it on the chin Turn away as strangers' laughter echoes through the town I don't believe how sweet it sounds