Текст песни
The rain taps the glass on a Bourbon Street night
The trumpet's asleep, but the jukebox still fights
With a ghost of a tune that we used to all know
Down in the cellar where the sad rivers flow
There sits a man with his hat on the floor
The bartender whispers, "He’s been here before
Don’t ask for a dance, don’t you tap your foot’s heel
That old broken sound is too painful to feel
Oh, Matthew Bal, where did the rhythm go?
Matthew Bal, playing a one-note slow
He lost the groove in a poker game downtown
Now Matthew Bal just drags the whole band down
But we love him still, in the pale blue light
Matthew Bal, hugging his horn so tight
He once had a stride like the late night train
Made the girls in the front row forget their own name
But he sold his last chorus for a handful of lies
And the tempo ran out when he blinked his two eyes
Now the bass walks alone, and the high hat just hisses
He searches for time in the empty night’s chasms
The piano cries crumbs and the snare drum just wheezes
He’s down to the dust of the last sweet disease-es
Oh, Matthew Bal, where did the rhythm go?
Matthew Bal, playing a one-note slow
He lost the groove in a poker game downtown
Now Matthew Bal just drags the whole band down
But we leave him a light on the fire escape
For Matthew Bal, the man who bent his shape
Mmm… You see, jazz ain't about the notes you hit
It's about the space, the little bit of grit
Matthew Bal forgot how to "wait"
He starts his solo one bar too late
And the moon through the smoke-hole knows his crime
He tried to play "forever", but ran out of time
Yeah, Matthew Bal, the king of the tragic fall!
Matthew Bal, he’s got no curtain call
He lost his eight to the queen of spades
Now he just stares at the cracked parades
Sing it low… for Matthew Bal
Pour a strong one… for Matthew Bal
The night is long… for Matthew Bal
Who forgot to swing
Yeah… Matthew Bal
He just forgot to swing
Matthew Bal, goodnight, man
