My father was an accordion player And rock and roll did pass him by He set records on the amateur hours Known as 'the boy with the fingers that fly' That was before I ever came around here Before the Dewar's, the Jack, and the beer Now he puts on a black tie and a lapel that's too wide And knows that God is now having his jeers So dream tonight all your sweet dreams Of the bright lights and the big stage It get's hard to ignore a twelve dollar whore Or the coming of your own middle age You gotta hold her so tightly she can't breath Be thankful she's waiting home for you For the old days are gone, except for the songs And those are all fading too My mother used to go out with Elvis And some of his shirts she keeps up in her room Sometimes I go and try one on, sing one of the King's songs In the Ghetto, maybe Blue Moon I say I can't sing one of the King's tunes He says some pretty, punk kid made it big while he did bar mitzvah gigs And sweated in the practice rooms So dream tonight all your sweet dreams Of the bright lights and the big stage It get's hard to ignore that you play on the floor And the bass player has to pause to change the page You gotta hold her so tightly she can't breath Be thankful she stuck it out with you For the old days are gone, except for the songs And those are all fading too Well, my father is an accordion player And it's a truth that some try to refuse But what they don't understand is I have seen it firsthand The accordion play the blues