| As a child I went wild when a band played
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| How I ran to the man when his hand swayed
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| Clarinets were my pets, and a slide trombone I thought was simply
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| Divine
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| But today when they play I could hiss them
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| Ev’ry bar is a jar to my system
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| But there’s one musical instrument that I call mine
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| I love a piano, I love a piano
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| I love to hear somebody play
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| Upon a piano, a grand piano
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| It simply carries me away
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| I know a fine way to treat a steinway
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| I love to run my fingers o’er the keys, the ivories
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| And with the pedal I love to meddle
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| When padarewski comes this way
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| I’m so delighted if I’m invited
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| To hear that long haired genius play
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| So you can keep your fiddle and your bow
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| Give me a p-i-a-n-o, oh, oh
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| I love to stop right beside an upright
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| Or a high toned baby grand
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| When a green tetrazine starts to warble
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| I grow cold as an old piece of marble
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| I allude to the crude little party singer who don’t know when to pause
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| At her best I detest the soprano
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| But I run to the one at the piano
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| I always love the accomp’niment and that’s because |