Lo siento, frank

They took him away in style,
Now elegance travels in an ambulance
It seems like good taste is forbidden
I'm going to light a candle in case there's still hope.

If the piano keys all turned white
And the cheap music won't stop playing
If the G clef woke up cloudy today
I'm going back to bed and sleep until tomorrow.

The poet is bored and has too many reasons
The song is serving a sentence for being too good
I'm sorry, Frank, I'm truly sorry
But this is simply how it is.

The fish dances to the syncopated rhythm of the market
And supply and demand have him very worried
Meanwhile, the bandoneon, a great sentimental
Was found dying at the door of a hostel.

The guitar confessed that no one played it anymore
That's why it killed the singer with a rusty string
If you want to leave, no one will chase you
But please close the door on your way out.