|
Balada
Piano Man
ENGLISH:
It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Making love to his tonic and gin
He says, Son, can you play me a memory?
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore younger man's clothes
La la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright
Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me.
As a smile ran away from his face
Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place
Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy who's still in the navy
And probably will be for life
And the waitress is practicing politics
As a businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright
It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see
To forget about life for a while
And the piano, sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, Man, what are you doin' here?
Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da da
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright
CASTELLANO:
Esta es la historia de un sábado de no importa que mes,
Y de un hombre sentado al piano de no importa que viejo café.
Toma el vaso y le tiemblan las manos, apestando entre humo y sudor
Y se agarra a su tablas de naufrago volviendo a su eterna canción.
La, la, la...
ESTRIBILLO:
Toca otra vez viejo perdedor
Haces que me sienta bien,
Es tan triste la noche que tu canción
Sabe a derrota y miel.
Cada vez que el espejo de la pared le devuelve mas joven la piel,
Se le encienden los ojos y su niñez viene a tocar junto a el.
Pero siempre hay borrachos con babas que le recuerden quien fue,
El mas joven maestro al piano vencido por una mujer.
La, la, la...
Ella siempre temió echar raíces que pudieran sus alas cortar
Y en la jaula metida la vida se le iba y quiso sus fuerzas probar.
No lamenta que beba dos vasos ,aunque nunca desea su mal.
Pero a ratos con furia golpea el piano y hay alguno que le han visto llorar
La, la, la...
(ESTRIBILLO)
El micrófono huele a cerveza y el calor se podría cortar
Solitarios y oscuros buscando pareja a cuantos ha visto llorar.
Hay un hombre aferrado a un piano la emoción empapada en alcohol.
Y una voz que le dice pareces cansado y aún no ha salido ni el sol.
(ESTRIBILLO)
|
|