In the field of jazz he was young,
But "Down Beat" billed him as news,
For he produced a progressive style,
Along with a swingin' Blues.
From Storyville to Basin Street,
From Basin Street to Condon's
The cry of all musicians
Was Jazz, Jazz, Jazz*
To Condon's he was invited,
With Basie he played his horn,
The kind of music they put forth,
Kept them going till early morn.
With the very best in Jazz,
All night he did play.
With Ellington, Armstrong, and Krupa,
The stand began to sway.
In the reviews the next day he was great,
So said the critics of Blues.
They named him Jazzman of the Year
And predicted Newport for Milo Hewes,
With Mulligan and Davis
To Newport he did fly.
The music was hot,
The weather was warm that evening in July.
The stage lights were on at Freebody Park,
Mr. Kenton was host.
As Miles looked off into space,
Cigarettes were shining like ghosts.
Hewes was next.
With poise he did step forward.
Little did he know
That his time was borrowed.
Suddenly pain showed on his face,
His fans gasped in fear.
There on the stand
Died Milo Hewes, Jazzman of the Year
*(chorus optional after each stanza).