The Pianist

Who plays the piano, up all night,

Down the alley, in the house beside?

The curtains are drawn and I can't see,

The one who plays, oh, who is he?

His music looms in night-time air;

He sings a song of love and care.

He tells the story of a long-lost friend,

And how their friendship came to an end.

He tells the story of his beloved wife,

To an illness, who lost her life.

He talks about his daughter and son,

And how they too have long been gone.

His music puts me in a daze,

And often I would gaze and gaze

Through the window, to catch a sight,

Of who this strange pianist be might.

One morning, I asked my neighbour, "Hey!

Last night did you hear a music play?

It was coming from right next door."

"Oh no sir, no one plays anymore.

The old man was the one who played,

But dear sir, he has long been dead.

Poor soul! he died of cardiac arrest.

We were the ones who put him to rest.

But we left his piano there,

Moving it didn't seem so fair."

"Oh........ then.........."

Who plays the piano, up all night,

Down the alley, in the house beside?