This is a story of a saturday
no matter what month
and a man sitting at the piano
no matter what old coffe
He takes the glass and his hands shake
stinking between smoke and sweat
and he grabs his board of shipwreck
returning to his eternal song
Play it again, old loser
you make me feel good
it´s so sad the night that in your song
savor the defeat and honey
Each time when the mirror in the wall
returns younger skin to him
his eyes light up and his childhood
comes to play with him
But there are always drunk with spit
to remember who he was
the youngest piano man
defeated by a woman
She always feared tako root
that could cut his wings
and still tucked into the cage his life was going
and he wanted to taste his strenght
He doesn´t regret giving missteps
though never want her bad
but at times he stuck with fury the piano
and some have seen him mourn
Play it again, old loser
you make me feel good
it´s so sad the night that in your song
savor the defeat and honey
The microphone smells like beer
and the heat could be cut
dark lonely looking for partner
rushing one more saturday
And a man clinging to the piano
the emotion soaked in alcohol
and a voice says: you look tired
and has not yet come the sun
Play it again, old loser
you make me feel good
it´s so sad the night that in your song
savor the defeat and honey