El hombre del piano

This is the story
of a Saturday
no matter the month
and of a man sitting at the piano
no matter the old cafe

He takes the glass and his hands tremble
reeking of smoke and sweat
and he clings to his life raft
returning to his eternal song

touches 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 reflects younger skin
his eyes light up
and his childhood comes to play alongside him

but there are always drooling drunks
who remind him of who he was
the youngest piano master
defeated by a woman

she always feared putting down roots
that could cut her wings
and in the cage she was in
life was slipping away
and she wanted to test her strength

he doesn't regret taking wrong steps
although he never wishes her harm
but sometimes with fury he hits the piano
and some have seen him cry

touches 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
hurrying to another Saturday

and a man clinging to the piano
emotion soaked in alcohol
and a voice that says you look tired
and the sun hasn't even risen yet

touches again old loser
you make me feel good
the night is so sad
that your song
tastes like defeat and honey.