| Sitting At The Piano | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| Sitting at the piano A blue note on my fingers Her hands upon my head I struck a chord to mean We're discordant and disdained But it came out right instead Sitting in her sleeping car Riding shotgun like a movie star Dancing without shoes But your fears made you afraid And that is why you ran away Still hoping I would chase you Can't you see that I'm an actor? I told you things I never meant Maybe we can't take the stress Maybe you just cannot bend And every note I play is blue Every chord I strike is you And though right now they ring true They will fade to nothing if abused Sitting at the piano A soft touch in my fingers Caresses all for you You're beautiful and much much more But if you choose to kill the chord I'll trash the whole damn tune |
||||||||||||||||||||||