I wrote this song on an airport piano

I was the guy disturbing your journey from security

To gate twenty-three AMaybe you noticed me

I wrote this song ′cause I had a spare hour

I was delayed trying to get back to my babies in Sydney

And I noticed the keys so I'm writing a song

(Singin′)

Women in SUV Porsches always look miserable

I don't know why they're so sad (don′t know why they′re so sad)

Maybe it's the calories they could′ve had

Filling them up with regret

And men in cafes in ski resorts

Trying to connect with their sons

Look like they just wanna hit 'em

I mean I′m sure that they dig 'em underneath all the gear

A young man in Air Jordans

Just left me five dollars on the piano

What you know

I always hated those airport pianos

Should be a law saying playing the theme from Beverly Hills Cop

Will get one of your hands chopped off

I wrote this song on an airport piano

I′m out of time I just need one more little rhyme

I gotta board that plane

They're calling my name

So I'm writing a song

(Singin′)

Women in SUV Porsches always look miserable

Or is it only the Botox (is it only the botox?)

They stick in their face to keep their looks from slipping

They′re kicking the can down the road

And men in mansions on cul-de-sacs

Having their midlife affairs

With the wife of a banker (with the wife of a banker)

While the banker is banging Bianca

But sadly they're still gonna die

A guy buying Subway

Anxiously digs through his cabin bag

Smiles when his wallet is found

Pays for his six-inch

Then forgets that his bag is unzipped

So the contents of it

Is disgorged

And a jar of Viagra spills onto the ground

(So it goes)

Women in SUV Porsches always look miserable

And I know why they′re so sad

They thought they'd be happier than they were in their Fords

But now they′re bored of their Porsches

And they're looking for more

They′re out there shopping for more

And their husband's so fat in his new Lycra shorts

Trying to pedal his way back to ninety-four

Trying to wind back the clock to before

To before they had this boat and this house

And this buy-to-let mortgage

To before they had bought all the things that they thought

Would fill up the hole but the goal keeps receding

And his hair is receding there's this book he′s been reading for

Six months but the words just swim round the pages

And God it′s been ages since they made love

And the kids are on drugs

With their ADHD and their anxiety

And their music is shit

And the time just keeps slipping away

But I'm sitting here playing and singing

And they are calling my name

′Cause your flight's gotta go when your flight′s gotta go

And I wrote this song on an airport piano