I'm a pro,
So it helps me earn some dough
But where's the satisfaction
From playing little phrases
In between swinging my saxaphone to and fro.
Kids from my generation learnt the guitar
But for me it was a bridge too far
So I went for the sax
And now wait behind the bands' backs
Then every now and again
I'm called on for a short refrain
I move to the front, where my mic is waiting
And give the lead singer a break
From his postulating.
As for the groupies, they ignore me
They want the singer and lead guitarist
For erotic company
My evening ends in a bar, just me
No LA woman at my lonely party
My thoughts return to home
Wishing I was rich enough to be free.
But I must swallow my pride
At least I've got a ticket to ride,
First class or in a private jet
I've nothing to lose
And when we land again you can bet
I'll have to play my staggered little set
Anyway, anyhow, anywhere the band choose.
Now where was I when Gerry recorded 'Baker Street'
As for Kenny G - who he?
(For Martin, taken too young)