The Piano
Theres an old piano at the end of the Hall
It plays out of tune, some notes don't play at all
The varnish is tarnished & the pedals stuck down
There's something about you, feel the Ghosts gather round
Just one more whisky, just one more song
Tell me your story, let your fingers lead on
From an old smokey bar room, that seen many a brawl
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
Cigar smoke & bad jokes you had to inhale
Every scratch on your body is a troubadours tale
Your the host of the party hear that Honky tonk scale
Bathed in fine music with a splash of brown ale
Just one more whisky, just one more song
Tell me your story, let your fingers lead on
From an old smokey bar room, that seen many a brawl
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
From Sinners to Preachers, Old Sunday school teachers
On this old piano stool there's been singers & screechers
Through the passage of time, your music stands tall
And you now come to rest at the old Village Hall
Just one more whisky, just one more song
Tell me your story, let your fingers lead on
From an old smokey bar room, that seen many a brawl
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
It plays out of tune, some notes don't play at all
The varnish is tarnished & the pedals stuck down
There's something about you, feel the Ghosts gather round
Just one more whisky, just one more song
Tell me your story, let your fingers lead on
From an old smokey bar room, that seen many a brawl
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
Cigar smoke & bad jokes you had to inhale
Every scratch on your body is a troubadours tale
Your the host of the party hear that Honky tonk scale
Bathed in fine music with a splash of brown ale
Just one more whisky, just one more song
Tell me your story, let your fingers lead on
From an old smokey bar room, that seen many a brawl
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
From Sinners to Preachers, Old Sunday school teachers
On this old piano stool there's been singers & screechers
Through the passage of time, your music stands tall
And you now come to rest at the old Village Hall
Just one more whisky, just one more song
Tell me your story, let your fingers lead on
From an old smokey bar room, that seen many a brawl
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
You now come to rest at the old Village Hall
Credits
Writer(s): David Cowan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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