Текст и перевод песни Liran' Roll - Pianista

Pianista

Esta es la historia de un sabado
Que importa cual es
Y de un hombre sentado al piano
Que importa cual viejo fue

Toma el vazo y le tiemblan las manos
Apestando entre humo y sudor
Y se agarra su tabla d naufrago
Volviendo a su eterna cancion
Oh lalalalalala lararalararaaaaaa

Toca otra vez viejo perdedor
Haces que me cienta bien
Es tan triste la noche de tu cancion
Sabe a derrota y a miel

Cada vez el espejo en la pared
Me devuelve
Mas joven la piel
Se le encienden los ojos
Y su niñes
Viene a tocar junta a el
Pero siempre hay borrachos
Con barbas que le recuerdan quien fue
El mas joven maestro al piano
Vencido por una mujer
Oh lararalarara lararalarara
Ella nunca quizoechar raizes
Q pudieran sus alas cortar
Y en la jaula metida la vida se le hiba
Y quizo sus fuerzas probar
No lo deja q deba los pasos
Aunque nunca desea sumar
Pero a razos con furia golpea
El piano y hay algunos que lo an visto llorar
Oh lararalarara

Toca otra vez
Viejo perdedor
Haces que me sienta bien
Es tan triste la noche de tu cancion sabe
A derrota y a miel

El microfono huele a cerveza
Y el calor se podia tocar
Solitarios con puro buscando pareja
Apurados un sabado mas

Hay un hombre acarriado al piano
La emocion empapada en alcohol
Y una voz que le dice pareses cansado
Y aun no a salido ni el sol
Larararalararara
Toca otra vez viejo perdedor
Haces q me cienta bien
Es tan triste la noche de tu cancion
Sabe a derrota y a miel

Pianist

This is the story of a Saturday
It doesn't matter which one
And of a man sitting at the piano
It doesn't matter how old he was

He takes the glass and his hands tremble
Stinking between smoke and sweat
And he grabs his shipwreck's plank
Returning to his eternal song
Oh lalalalalala lararalararaaaaaa

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

Every time the mirror on the wall
Brings back
My skin younger
His eyes light up
And his childhood
Comes to play with him
But there are always drunkards
With beards that remind him who he was
The youngest master at the piano
Defeated by a woman
Oh lararalarara lararalarara
She never wanted to take root
That could cut her wings
And in the cage, her life was slipping away
And she wanted to test her strength
He won't let her owe the steps
Though he never wants to add
But she furiously strokes
The piano and some have seen him cry
Oh lararalarara

Play again
Old loser
You make me feel good
The night of your song is so sad, you know
To defeat and honey

The microphone smells like beer
And the heat could be touched
Lonely people with cigars looking for a partner
In a hurry, one more Saturday

There is a man carried to the piano
Emotion soaked in alcohol
And a voice that tells him you seem tired
And the sun hasn't even come out yet
Larararalararara
Play again, old loser
You make me feel good
The night of your song is so sad
It tastes like defeat and honey