The Guitar Don't Lie
He sits all alone, playin' his guitar
Out in the back of a little cafe
And no one seems to hear, so he closes his eyes
And just lets the music take him away
Singing songs of love, songs of broken heart
And it's one of his love and his last parody
What you keep going on, when you're leaving on dreams
And you feel it inside and the guitar don't lie
The guitar don't lie
There's a lady he knows who often comes by
She's a nice little girl and she's into the blues
The request is the same song ever in eye
She sadly reminds her of someone she knew
A trace of her perfume flowed across the room
One stare were close and the shade of their dreams
But now all he feeds is a fees a cafe
They grow slowly apart and the guitar don't lie
The guitar don't lie
Some nights it gets cold and it makes him away
The time's moving on and it's slipping away
And if you look closer his dark curly hair
Under the lights there are traces of gray
He knows what it's all about feeling down and out
'Cause he's been never for and he's seen it all
And he learn to survive with your back to the wall
It's a crazy all life, and the guitar don't lie
The guitar don't lie
The guitar don't lie
The guitar don't lie
The guitar don't lie...
La Guitarra no Miente
Él se sienta solo, tocando su guitarra
En la parte trasera de un pequeño café
Y nadie parece escuchar, así que cierra los ojos
Y simplemente deja que la música lo lleve lejos
Cantando canciones de amor, canciones de corazones rotos
Y es una de amor y su última parodia
¿Cómo sigues adelante, cuando te vas en sueños?
Y lo sientes por dentro y la guitarra no miente
La guitarra no miente
Hay una dama que él conoce que a menudo pasa por ahí
Es una chica agradable y le gusta el blues
La petición es la misma canción siempre en su mente
Tristemente le recuerda a alguien que conocía
Un rastro de su perfume flotaba por la habitación
Una mirada cercana y la sombra de sus sueños
Pero ahora todo lo que alimenta es una tarifa de café
Se van distanciando lentamente y la guitarra no miente
La guitarra no miente
Algunas noches hace frío y lo aleja
El tiempo avanza y se escapa
Y si miras de cerca su oscuro cabello rizado
Bajo las luces hay rastros de gris
Él sabe de qué se trata sentirse abatido
Porque nunca ha estado y lo ha visto todo
Y ha aprendido a sobrevivir con la espalda contra la pared
Es una vida loca, y la guitarra no miente
La guitarra no miente
La guitarra no miente
La guitarra no miente
La guitarra no miente...