I reached the age of forty somewhat sooner than expected,
Living at a fairly hectic pace.
When I count the years that I have happily collected,
The future shows its apprehensive face.
(But now, Francis, what the hell do you do now, Francis?)
Quite a different song must be sung
When the singer is no longer young.
Before the music ends, before it fades away,
There are several very necessary things I must do.
Friends I must see again, certain places
Where I must be again.
Before the music ends,
I must go to Hoboken one more time.
I wanna run down that street where that thin Italian kid ran.
Then slow down at the school,
Where those nice old ladies tried to teach me,
Unaware that I knew much more than they did.
And stop at the poolroom for a beer,
And sadly say to myself, I don't know anybody here.
(Francis, don't go home again.)
One thing I'd like to do,
Before the music ends,
Is to thank some wonderful life-long friends,
I've never met but have known so well.
From one Frank to another, thank you for your dream,
Your dream is now my own.
And thank you Ludwig Van
For the flight of fancy you sent me on.
Thank Mrs. Verdi, for Joe and a special thanks to Giacomo.
All of you took turns in delivering sunrise a little sooner to my window.
Before the music ends, with company by Dino and Sarge,
I'd like to make one more charge at Vegas
You won't find me at that idiot wheel that spins, and spins and spins.
I won't play the slot machine,
The management always wins.
Not for me the game where the Jack is called Black:
Hand me them dice and stand back!
(Put five hundred on the line,
And a hundred on the come,
if Sinatra makes his Nine, blow the trumpets, beat the drum!)
You won't hear me talk about baby‘s new shoes, baby's got 57 pairs…
All I ask is a Nine, just a plain and simple Nine
(just a little five and four, just a little six and three,
nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine)
Nine!!!
In years to come, I may forget if I lost or if I won,
But I'll always remember how much fun it was.
(just concentrate on five and four, just stick to six and three).
And when the music ends,
I'd like it to end this way,
I'll ask Chester to write me one more song.
I'll get Lefty to make me one more chart,
And I'll make one more record with the best musicians in the world.
And when that cat with the scythe
comes tugging at my sleeve,
I'll be singing as I leave
(Sinatra, Sinatra, Sinatra)