Mark Sandman — The Strange Man At The End Of The Bar
The Strange Man At The End Of The Bar
I saw the strange man. Whenever he bent over to tie his shoes, he fell off the bar stool. Then he’d say: “I’ll never learn to play the piano if I keep going this way”. And then he would start crying, tears reflected the neon kissed glistening unwiped beer on the bar. I sent over the drink and bartender laid the turquoise cocktail on the waiter’s tray. He took it straight away to the strange man at the end of the bar. He sat there, holding three ice cubes in a wet napkin pressed to his bruised forehead, both of his shoes untied. There was no… no piano… no piano on the place, there was no hesitation on his face. He put that drink away […]. You could see turquoise drink gradually infuses extremities. You could actually see it, like bearing mould, like liquid road flare. “I’ll have one of those”, I said to the bartender. “The drink snaps, eye?” I said to the man with swollen forehead. […] His fingertips glowed, sort of mine. They reflected golden grin of the wet bar. My mind felt like a downtown street on a very clear day, with the notion of newspaper confetti raining down and down… and piling up all around.
I saw the strange man. Whenever he bent over to tie his shoes, he fell off the bar stool. Then he’d say: “I’ll never learn to play the piano if I keep going this way”. And then he would start crying, tears reflected the neon kissed glistening unwiped beer on the bar. I sent over the drink and bartender laid the turquoise cocktail on the waiter’s tray. He took it straight away to the strange man at the end of the bar. He sat there, holding three ice cubes in a wet napkin pressed to his bruised forehead, both of his shoes untied. There was no… no piano… no piano on the place, there was no hesitation on his face. He put that drink away […]. You could see turquoise drink gradually infuses extremities. You could actually see it, like bearing mould, like liquid road flare. “I’ll have one of those”, I said to the bartender. “The drink snaps, eye?” I said to the man with swollen forehead. […] His fingertips glowed, sort of mine. They reflected golden grin of the wet bar. My mind felt like a downtown street on a very clear day, with the notion of newspaper confetti raining down and down… and piling up all around.
Краткое описание
Песня «The Strange Man At The End Of The Bar» рассказывает историю о необычном человеке, который сидит в баре и испытывает трудности в своей жизни. Он склонен падать, когда пытается связать свои сапоги, и жалуется на свою неспособность играть на пианино. В тексте также упоминается, что его голова повреждена, и он держит три кубика льда в мокрой полотенце. В песне описывается атмосфера бара, с его неоновыми светильниками и необычными напитками. Главный герой пытается найти комфорт и утешение в своем загадочном мире, а другие персонажи пытаются помочь ему и понять его проблемы.
Текст добавил: Андрей Курышев