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Bb/GLift me, wCont you liDmft me, aEbmaj7bove the old routGmine
MGake it nice, play it clean, GJazzman
Bb/GC
WBb/Ghen the Jazzmans tCestifyin a faBb/Githless man beliAmeves
he can Bb/Gsing you into Cparadise or Bb/Gbring you Cto your Gknees
Its a gBb/Gospel kind of feCelin a toBb/Guch of Georgia sliAmde
a Bb/Gsong of pure rCevival and a sBb/Gtyle thats sCanctifDmied F G G G
Bb/GJazzmCan tBb/Gake my blues aCway, make my Bb/Gpain
the Csame as yours Bb/Gwith every change you Amplay
JGazzman, oh JaGzzman
Bb/GC
When JBb/Gazzmans sigCnifyin and the baBb/Gnd is windin low Am
Its the lBb/Gate night side of mCorning in the dBb/Garkness oCf his soGul
He can Bb/Gfill a room with Csadness as he Bb/Gfills his horns with tAmears
He can Bb/Gcry like a fallen aCngel when rBb/Gisin tiCme is neDmar
Bb/GJazzmCan tBb/Gake my blues aCway, make my Bb/Gpain
the Csame as yours with every change you pAmlay
Oh Bb/Glift me, wCont you lDmift me wiEbmaj7th evry turn aroGmund
GPlay it sweetly, take me down, oh JGazzman
Bb/GC
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