Tag Archives: Music

Morning Sax

When I wake up in the morning

And look at your sleeping face

I feel like I’ve got everything,

Just like J.P. Morgan Chase.

I know that you’re still sleeping.

Makes sense, ’cause it’s 5:03,

But I just have to surprise you

With the greatest part of me,

And so I whip out my saxophone

And lick the reed ’til it’s damp

Then it’s you and me at 5:03

And a cover of John Mellencamp.

I gave you morning sax!

Comso says it’s great.

I gave you morning sax

‘Cause funky just can’t wait.

I gave you morning sax!

I’d say that’s pretty fly.

I wanted you to say “Oh God yes!”

But I’ll settle for “Oh God, why?!”

When you wake up in the morning

And see my body lying prone

In a pool of hot red blood

Clutching my saxophone

At first you’re shocked and worried

But you throw some coffee down

And remember last night’s victory

As you drive into town.

And as I lie, still bleeding

From the opening in my head

I dream about tomorrow

When I’ll play Kenny G instead.

I’ll give you morning sax!

It’s better the second time.

I’ll give you morning sax!

I’m sure it will be fine.

I’ll give you morning sax!

Sure, it’s a taxing gig

But I just love that moment

When your eyes get so, so big!

I played for you the morning

Of the day I finally died.

When the doctor shared the news

I like to think you cried.

You told me you lack self-control

Before you are awake

And that any more at 5:04

Was more than you could take.

As you call the undertaker

And they ask if you will hold

I only hope that waiting music

Makes your heart a bit less cold.

Now you’ll hear mourning sax!

It don’t mean a thing.

Enjoy the mourning sax!

All you had to do was sing…

There’s no more morning sax!

Let that sink into your brain

As you take five, my satin doll,

Riding home on the “A” train…

(Fading out)
How long will it take to Bari me?
Tenor so minutes.
A little Charlie Bird told me.
I’m on a Coltrane to Hell.

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J-Pop Songs

They could be singing

Of murdering puppies

Or of the great pleasure

Of wringing your neck.

They could even be singing

“Go Panthers go!”

But sing in Japanese

And it’s catchy as heck.

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A Courteous Reply To Billy Joel

I know you want me to sing you a song

‘Cause you’re feeling okey-dokey.

But I don’t sing. I’m the Piano Man.

Why don’t y’all go and sing Karaoke?

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They’re gone until Thanksgiving!

It’s the first day of

It’s the hap, happiest season:

Eleven months without carols.

That is my reason.

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European Medicine

Do you have

A song in your head

That makes you wish

That you were dead.

I’ve got medicine

To make that song come unfurled.

“It’s The Final Countdown.”

You’re welcome,

-The World

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Just Wait ‘Til The Angels Give Me A Harp

I sang a song of love and peace

So thankful for the fallen.

I knew that those beyond the grave

Could surely hear my callin’.

And thus the unknown soldier

And the deceased cream of the crop

Made humankind better once more

By asking me to stop.

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An Unhappy Pianist

I was tired of the piano.

It had a negative influence

On my life and my wellbeing.

To correct for this incongruence

I changed my choice of instrument.

Now I play the piayes.

I don’t have many gigs lined up,

But I think that’s for the bes’.

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I Hate Music

Trees are nice. So are rocks,

But not so much big cities,

‘Cause they are full of people

Whose heads are full of ditties.

They sing all day despite themselves,

Albeit silently.

I cannot stand these catchy tunes

That I cannot hear or see.

And so I moved out to the woods

Are jingles don’t exist.

And now getting rid of the birds

Is on my to-do list.

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False Advertising

They say he played the violin

With a sound that roused the spirit.

I traveled far, o’er hill and dale

Hoping just to hear it.
I was trulydisappointed

When I finally met the fellow,

For he played not the violin,

But the world’s smallest cello. 

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Variety

I went to a fancy restaurant
On the other side of Vermont.
The air outside was a silent mist,
While within was a wandering violinist.

The atmosphere was nice, for sure,
But the cliche was hard to endure.
So just once in every while
A wandering trombone would make me smile.

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