El Hombre Del Piano

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

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

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 with him

But there are always drunks with drool
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

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

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 of beer
And the heat could be cut with a knife
Lonely, dark souls looking for a partner
Hastening another Saturday

There is a man clinging to the piano
Emotion soaked in alcohol
And a voice that says to him: You look tired
And the Sun hasn't even risen yet

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