There are those in certain circles
Who find it slightly controversial
When a writer falls in love with one of her subjects
They may object to some alleged indiscretion
But there’s no point to this profession
Without the occasional obsession
Besides she can hardly be faulted for
The fact that she has fallen for
The sweetest boy in Baltimore
The sexiest saxophonist in the entire Army corps
No harmonic progression
Leaves as lasting an impression
As looking into his brown eyes
All other saxophone solos
Are woefully lacking in mojo
Those other guys can’t really improvise
No one else swings the way he swings
The way he vibrates her heartstrings
All other sounds are just pretty lies
As she was picking out her wedding gown
This only child from Youngstown
Felt a little less like the sad clown she once was
She’s getting over her introversion
She’s gonna stop singing about herself
In the third person
I’m in love with you
I’m in love with you
No harmonic progression
Leaves as lasting an impression
As looking into your brown eyes
All other saxophone solos
Are woefully lacking in mojo
Those other guys can’t really improvise
No one else swings the way you swing
The way you vibrate my heartstrings
All other sounds are just pretty lies |