Piano Man

This is the story of a Saturday
No matter what month
And a man sitting at the piano
In no matter what old café

He takes the glass and his hands tremble
Reeking of smoke and sweat
And he clings to his raft board
Returning to his eternal song
La, ra, rarara, la rarararara

Play again, old loser
You make me feel good
The night is so sad that your song
Tastes like defeat and honey

Every time the mirror on the wall
Makes his skin look younger
His eyes light up and his childhood
Comes to play beside him

But there are always drunken men with drool
Who remind him of who he was
The youngest piano talent
Defeated by a woman
La, ra, rarara, la rarararara

She always feared putting down roots
That could cut her wings
And trapped in the cage, life was slipping away
And she wanted to test her strength

She doesn't regret taking wrong steps
Although she never wishes him harm
But sometimes with fury he hits the piano
And some have seen him cry
La, ra, rarara rarararara

Play again old loser
You make me feel good
The night is so sad that your song
Tastes like defeat and honey

The microphone smells like beer
And the heat could be cut
Dark loners looking for a partner
Hastening another Saturday

There's a man clinging to a piano
Emotion soaked in alcohol
And a voice that says to him: You look tired
And the Sun hasn't even risen yet
La, ra, rarara, la rarararara

Play again old loser
You make me feel good
The night is so sad that your song
Tastes like defeat and honey