It is something, how he blows it;
He cycles the wind around it.
Yeah, but it’s really creepy, what he plays,
It’s got this sound: shit.
Listen, it goes really crappy, a time-waster;
He should use that sax for a turkey-baster.

You don’t have to listen to Kenny G
(He blows crap. . .grew livid from Kenny G)

Somewhere, somehow, somebody
Must listen to his sound dumb.
This ain’t jazz, as Metheny dissed with abandon.
Crummy are licks played pentatonically;
Shmuck had the gall to overdub Louis* freely.

He blows crap; no wisdom has Kenny G
(Blows crap; no wisdom has Kenny G)
No phrasing--he blows crap—smooth wind blight from Kenny G
(Blows crap—smooth wind blight from Kenny G)

Waste-of-time pablum’s worst;
This putz purloiner’s putrid pop pap I’ve spurned.
He blows. . .the treacle called “smooth,”
But it drives me to drink, does the opposite of sooth.

Somewhere, somehow, somebody
Must listen to his sound slop.
I wouldn’t if I were kidnapped, tied up
While Kenny played. . .force an eardrum pop.
Crummy are licks played displaying that he
Can be even more a blight than yucky Yanni.

He blows crap—smooth wind numbs me wretchedly
(Blows crap—smooth wind numbs me wretchedly)
Tone’s wasted—he blows crap—dude’s wind rumbles fecklessly
(Blows crap—dude’s wind rumbles fecklessly)
He blows crap; soothes—dissin’ of Kenny G
(Blows crap; soothes—dissin’ of Kenny G)


*Armstrong