The guitar Don't Lie (Le marché aux puces)

(x4) He sits all alone playing his guitar In the back of a small café No one seems to hear so he closes his eyes Just lets the music take him away Singing songs of love songs of broken hearts He's worn out his luck and his last pair of jeans But you keep going on when you're living on dreams You can feel it inside and the guitar don't lie              There's a lady he knows who often comes by She's a nice little girl and she's heavily into the blues She requests the same song every night Says it reminds her of someone she knew             A trace of her perfume floats across the room Once they were close shared all their dreams But now all that he feels is a physical thing They grow slowly apart and the guitar don't lie   (Instrumental) Some nights it gets cold it makes him aware The time's moving on and it's slipping away If you look close at his dark curly hair Under the lights there's traces of grey But he knows what it's all about to feel down and out He's been there before he's seen it all And you learn to survive with your back to the wall It's a crazy old life and the guitar don't lie The guitar don't lie ...