| C | G | F | C | F | C | D7 | G | 
| C | G | F | C | F | G | C | Csus4 | 
| Cmaj7 | Csus4 | C | Csus4 | Cmaj7 | Csus4 | C | 
| C | G | F | C | ||||
| It’s | nine | o’ | clock | on a | Satu | rday. | 
| F | C | D7 | G | ||
| The regular | crowd | shuffles | in. | 
| C | G | F | C | |||
| There’s an | old | man | sitting | next | to me, | 
| F | G | C | C | |||
| Making | love | to his | tonic | and | gin | 
| C | G | F | C | |||
| He says, “ | Son, | can you | play | me a | memory? | 
| F | C | D7 | G | |||
| I’m | not | really | sure | how it | goes. | 
| C | G | F | C | ||||
| But it’s | sad | and it’s | sweet | and I | knew | it com | plete, | 
| F | G | C | C | |||
| When | I | wore a | younger | man’s | clothes.” | 
| Am | Am | D | F | ||
| La | la | la, | di da | da! | 
| Am | Am | D | D | G | F | Em | Dm | |||
| La | la, | di | da | da | da | dum | ... | 
| C | G | F | C | |||
| Sing | us a | song, | you’re the | piano | man. | 
| F | C | D7 | G | ||
| Sing | us a | song | to | night. | 
| C | G | F | C | ||||
| Well, we’re | all | in the | mood | for a | melo | dy, | 
| F | G | C | C | |||
| And | you | ’ve got us | feelin’ | al | right. | 
| Now | John | at the | bar | is a | friend | of | mine, | 
| He | gets | me my | drinks | for | free. | 
| And he’s | quick | with a | joke | or to | light | up your | smoke, | 
| But there’s | some | place that | he’d | rather | be. | 
| He says, “ | Bill, | I be | lieve | this is | kill | ing me.” | 
| As the | smile | ran a | way | from his | face. | 
| “Well I’m | sure | that I | could | be a | movie | star, | 
| If | I | could get | out | of this | place.” | 
| Now | Paul | is a | real | estate | novelist, | 
| Who | never | had | time | for a | wife. | 
| And he’s | tal | kin’ with | Davy, | who’s | still | in the | Navy, | 
| And | prob | ably | will | be for | life. | 
| And the | wait | ress is | prac | ticing | politics, | 
| As the | busine | ssmen | slow | ly get | ston | ed. | 
| Yes, they’re | shari | ng a | drink | they call | lone | liness, | 
| But it’s | bett | er than | drink | in’ al | one. | 
| Am | Am | D | F | Am | Am | D | F | 
| Am | Am | D | D | G | F | Em | Dm | 
| It’s a | pret | ty good crowd | for a | Satur | day, | 
| And the | mana | ger | gives | me a | smile, | 
| ’Cause he | knows | that it’s | me | they’ve been | comi | n’ | 
| to | see, | 
| To | forg | et about | life | for a | while. | 
| And the | piano, | it | sounds | like a | carni | val | 
| And the | micro | phone | smells | like a | beer | 
| And they | sit | at the | bar | and put | bread | in my jar | 
| And say, “ | Man, | what are | you | doin’ | here | ?” |