(Instrumental opening)

It's 9 o'clock on a Saturday.
The bar burns a brand-new Yule Log.
There's an old man sitting next to me
making love to his mug of egg nog.

He says, "Son, can you play me a Christmas song?
I'm not really sure how it goes
but it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
when I wore Victorian clothes."

Fa-la-la, fa-la-la.
Fa-la, fa-la-la, la-la.

Sing us a song, you're the Piano Man.
Sing us a song tonight.
For we're all in the mood for a holiday
with the wreaths and the holly and lights!

Now, John at the bar is a friend of mine.
He fixes things, he's very brave.
And he thinks that a chick
from a holiday flick
will love him if he doesn't shave.

He says, "Bill, it's cliché and it's comedy"
as the smile runs away from his face.
"But some woman who looks like a movie star
will bump into me in this place!"

Oh, fa-la-la, fa-la-la.
Fa-la, fa-la-la, la-la.

Now, Paul is a department store Santa Claus
who never had time for a wife
and he's talking with Hazel
who's red in the nasal
and probably will be for life.

And the waitress has cookies of gingerbread
though her fruitcake's as heavy as stone.
The gifts exchanged barely count as stocking-stuffers
but it's better than Christmas alone.

(Instrumental break)

Sing us a song, you're the Piano Man.
Sing us a song tonight.
For we're all in the mood for a holiday
with the wreaths and the holly and lights!

It's a pretty good crowd for a Christmas Eve
and the waitress, she gives me a smile.
'Cause she knows with the snow
nobody can go.
It appears we're stuck here for a while.

And the piano sounds like a church organ
though the microphone smells like a beer.
And the waitress says, "Whoa!
Someone hung mistletoe!"
I say, "Man, what is that doing here?"

Oh, fa-la-la, fa-la-la.
Fa-la, fa-la-la, la-la.

Sing us a song, you're the Piano Man.
Sing us a song tonight.
For we're all in the mood for a holiday
with the wreaths and the holly and lights!

(Instrumental close)