Lyrics and translation Tom Waits - The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me) (An Evening With Pete King)

The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me) (An Evening With Pete King)

The piano has been drinking,
My necktie is asleep,
And the combo went back to New York,
The jukebox has to take a leak,
And the carpet needs a haircut,
And the spotlight looks like a prison break,
'Cause the telephone's out of cigarettes,
And the balcony is on the make,
And the piano has been drinking.

The piano has been drinking,
And the menus are all freezing,
And the light man's blind in one eye,
And he can't see out of the other,
And the piano tuner's got a hearing aid,
And he showed up with his mother,
And the piano has been drinking.

The piano has been drinking,
As the bouncer is a Sumo wrestler,
Cream-puff casper milktoast,
And the owner is a mental midget,
With the I.Q. of a fence post,
'Cause the piano has been drinking.

The piano has been drinking,
And you can't find your waitress,
With a Geiger counter,
And she hates you and your friends,
And you just can't get served without her,
And the box-office is drooling,
And the bar stools are on fire,
And the newspapers were fooling,
And the ashtrays have retired,
'Cause the piano has been drinking.

The piano has been drinking,
The piano has been drinking,
Not me,
Not me,
Not me,
Not me,
Not me.

Le piano a bu (pas moi) (Une soirée avec Pete King)

Le piano a bu,
Ma cravate dort,
Et le groupe est retourné à New York,
Le juke-box doit aller aux toilettes,
Et la moquette a besoin d'une coupe,
Et le projecteur ressemble à une évasion de prison,
Parce que le téléphone est à court de cigarettes,
Et le balcon est sur le point de se faire,
Et le piano a bu.

Le piano a bu,
Et les menus gèlent tous,
Et l'homme des lumières est aveugle d'un œil,
Et il ne voit pas de l'autre,
Et l'accordeur de piano a une aide auditive,
Et il est arrivé avec sa mère,
Et le piano a bu.

Le piano a bu,
Alors que le videur est un lutteur de sumo,
Un Casper pâle et mou,
Et le propriétaire est un nain mental,
Avec le QI d'un poteau de clôture,
Parce que le piano a bu.

Le piano a bu,
Et tu ne trouves pas ta serveuse,
Avec un compteur Geiger,
Et elle te déteste, toi et tes amis,
Et tu ne peux tout simplement pas te faire servir sans elle,
Et la billetterie bave,
Et les tabourets de bar sont en feu,
Et les journaux se moquaient,
Et les cendriers ont pris leur retraite,
Parce que le piano a bu.

Le piano a bu,
Le piano a bu,
Pas moi,
Pas moi,
Pas moi,
Pas moi,
Pas moi.