niina.amniisia » bits, pieces and photos from sydney, australia and elsewhere

find me a crooner (Thursday September 20th, 2001 - 00:46)

category: mmhuh?

I’m listening to music tonight that makes me think of that place I dream to find : around a corner and through an alley a dark wooden door with brass handle that must be pulled with a strong arm. Down red carpet stairs covered in spills and cigarette burns, the drab dark rose patterned wallpaper has not been spared similar treatment. Reaching the bottom, look ahead and there are tilted partially-lit neon drink signs above the bottles and a tired-eyed barman leans illuminated green against the bar. He stares down at an empty glass, the bar stools are unoccupied and though a few people are in there’s no conversation. A man in baggy grey trousers, white untucked shirt and tie loose around his neck walks through the room holding two drinks, seats himself at a table with a dozen empties. On the other side of the room another similarly dressed sits in a booth reading a newspaper. There’s a piano at the far end, a light shines by the face of a messy haired, dark suited man who casually moves his hands along the keys and croons in a whisky-soaked voice. A cigarette burns into smoke from an ashtray on the piano lid, and the man curls up close to his instrument never looking up at the ‘crowd’.

The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)
by Tom Waits

The piano has been drinking, my neck tie 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’s on the make
And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking…

And the menus are all freezing, and the lightman’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…

Cause 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

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