O-A

O-a
Every afternoon he arrived to rehearse
Always very bored
And with very little desire to talk

O-a
Some friend asks how it's going?
While he keeps tuning
He says it's not so bad

He has realized that he lacks many
Notes to give
That somewhere outside the theater he can
Perform
He was never the first soloist
It wasn't his vocation
But when the Sun sets
He breaks the streets with his saxophone
O-a
(O-a)

He wears jeans under the tailcoat
And usually sits almost always in the back seats
O-a
(O-a)

No one imagines he plays in a bar
Where he can achieve what not even in alms they give him
One day he may throw the chair and burn his
Disguise
Leave the theater changing in smiles so much
Seriousness

He was never the first soloist
It wasn't his vocation
But when the Sun sets
He breaks the streets with his saxophone

He has realized
That he lacks many notes to give
That somewhere outside the theater he can
Perform
He was never the first soloist
It wasn't his vocation
But when the Sun sets
He breaks the streets with his saxophone
He breaks the streets with his saxophone
O-a
(O-a)

Every afternoon he arrived to rehearse
Always very bored
And with very little desire to talk
O-a
(O-a)

Some friend asks how it's going?
While he keeps tuning he says it's not so bad
O-a
(O-a)
(O-a)
(Eh eh)

He wears jeans under the tailcoat
And usually sits almost always in the back seats