Dm
I wrote this song on an airport piano
Gm
I was the guy disturbing your journey from security
To gate twenty-three A
Bb C Dm
Maybe you noticed me
I wrote this song cos I had a spare hour
I was delayed trying to get back to my babies in Sydney
Gm Bb
And I noticed the keys so I’m writing a song
C
Singin’
[Chorus]
F Am
Women in SUV Porsches always look miserable
Dm
I don’t know why they’re so sad
Dm Bb
Maybe it’s the calories they coulda had
C F
Filling them up with regret
F
And men in cafes in ski resorts
Am
Trying to connect with their sons
Dm
Look like they just wanna hit ‘em
Bb C Dm
I mean I’m sure that they dig ‘em underneath all the gear
[Bridge]
Dm Dm/C Dm/B
A young man in Air Jordans
Bb F
Just left me five dollars on the piano
C Dm
Whattaya know
[Verse 2]
Dm
I always hated those airport pianos
Gm Dm
Should be a law saying playing the theme from Beverly Hills Cop
Gm Bb
Will get one of your hands chopped off
Dm
I wrote this song on an airport piano
I’m out of time I just need one more little rhyme
Gm
I gotta board that plane
They’re calling my name
So I’m writing a song
C
Singin’
[Chorus]
F Am
Women in SUV Porsches always look miserable
Dm
Or is it only the Botox
Bb C
They stick in their face to keep their looks from slipping
C F
They’re kicking the can down the road
F
And men in mansions on cul-de-sacs
Am
Having their midlife affairs
Dm
With the wife of a banker
Bb
While the banker is banging Bianca
C Dm
But sadly they’re still gonna die
[Bridge]
Dm Dm/C Dm/B
A guy buying Subway
G Bb
Anxiously digs through his cabin bag
F C
Smiles when his wallet is found
Dm Dm/C Dm/B
Pays for his six-inch
Dm C
Then forgets that his bag is unzipped
Bb
So the contents of it
Bb
Is disgorged
F C
And a jar of Viagra spills onto the ground
N.C
So it goes
[CHorus]
F Am
Women in SUV Porsches always look miserable
Dm
And I know why they’re so sad
Bb
They thought they’d be happier than they were in their Fords
C
But now they’re bored of their Porsches
F
And they’re looking for more
F
They’re out there shopping for more
Am
And their husband’s so fat in his new Lycra shorts
Dm
Trying to peddle his way back to ninety-four
Bb C
Trying to wind back the clock to before
F
To before they had this boat and this house
F
And this buy-to-let mortgage
Am
To before they had bought all the things that they thought
Dm
Would fill up the hole but the goal keeps receding
Bb C
And his hair is receding there’s this book he’s been reading for
F
Six months but the words just swim round the pages
Am
And god it’s been ages since they made love
C Dm
And the kids are on drugs
Bb
With their ADHD and their anxiety
C
And their music is shit
F
And the time just keeps slipping away
Am
But I’m sitting here playing and singing
And they are calling my name
Dm
Cos your flight’s gotta go when your flight’s gotta go
Bb C F
And I wrote this song on an airport piano