I’m a thief; it’s an old story, half of which I use to entertain while sitting over a drink.
Don’t believe all of it; don’t take it seriously. By now it’s more of a comedic story.
I’m a thief. I pretend to take refuge from the rain in a Nagano arcade and spend my Sunday appraising its goods.
Opening and shutting my multicolored umbrella, even my heart dances on this vacation parade.

On the corner of 2nd St., a large truck is stopped outside a new instrument shop, unloading something.
Even longer ago, I used to be a pianist… c’mon, I’m serious, I even played my share of concerts!
That’s why I noticed it immediately: a vintage Steinway; any true pianist can’t help but desire such a famous piece.
To tell you the truth, my vision began to swim. If I had that, I could play better than anyone!

I’ll steal that piano and play my specialty classic ballad that I’ve kept in reserve!
If everyone were to hear it, even that girl who ran out on me would stop seeing me as a failure!
I’ll steal that piano and fix myself, along with my shitty life;
I was just about fed up with sneaking around through life, avoiding attention, anyway!

Having said that, doing anything that grand would be impossible. After all, I’m just a misering pickpocket.
If I can’t steal it, then it would be enough just to play it for a bit. No, just to look at it up close would satisfy me.
Once I’d decided that, I sneaked straight in; the quietness of 3:00 AM is my partner in crime.
I stood before the piano and couldn’t stand still… D major rang gently across that 3:00 AM.

After hearing this piano, what do you think about my specialty classic ballad that I’ve kept in reserve?
What comes flowing out is a melody of beautiful days; those sorrowful sounds are the regret of days to which I can never return.
After hearing this piano, it’s apparent that my shitty life is doomed to end in obscurity.
I’ve stolen to live and lived to steal; a stage on which I wouldn’t receive a single clap of applause.

My whole life story was a lie. Why are you making that face? You couldn’t possibly believe I have a past like that!
Now it’s time for me to go on stage; despite my looks, I’m quite good at piano!

After hearing this piano, what do you think about my specialty classic ballad that I’ve kept in reserve?
What comes flowing out is the melody of a foolish man; the hymn of good-for-nothing with a suspended sentence.
After hearing this piano, it’s apparent that my shitty life is doomed to end in obscurity.
If that performance could happen, I’d hear clapping and cheering from upon that stage. They’d think, “This guy’s not so bad after all”.

僕は泥棒 昔の話 話半分は酒の席のご愛嬌
真に受けるなよ 本気にするなよ 今となっては笑い話の類
僕は泥棒 中野のアーケード 雨宿りの振りして品定めの日曜
色とりどりの傘が開いて閉じて 心も躍る休日のパレード

二丁目の角の 新しい楽器店 でかいトラックが止まって何やら搬入中
もっと昔には ピアノ弾きでもあった いや 本当さライブだってよくやったもんさ
だからピンと来た スタインウェイのヴィンテージ ピアノ弾きなら誰もが憧れる名品
正直目がくらんだ あいつがあれば 僕は誰よりも上手く弾けるのに

あのピアノ盗んで 弾きたいな取って置きの 自慢のクラシックバラード
それを聴いたら 出て行ったあの娘も 落ちぶれちまった僕をきっと見直すはずさ
ピアノ盗んで やり直したいな僕の くそったれの人生
丁度 人目を避けてコソコソ生きるのに 嫌気が差してきたところなんだ

とは言うものの あんな大物は無理だ 所詮僕はケチな巾着切り専門
盗むのが無理なら ちょっと弾くだけでもいいんだ いや 近くで眺めるだけでも満足だ
そうと決まれば 早速忍び込んだ 午前三時の静寂は僕の相棒だ
ピアノを前にして じっとしてられなかった おもむろに鳴らす午前三時のニ長調

このピアノを聴いて どうだ僕の取って置きの 自慢のクラシックバラード
流れ出すのは 美しい日々の調べ その憂いはまるで帰らぬ日々の後悔
ピアノを聴いて どうせ野垂れ死ねだけの くそったれの人生
生きるために盗んで 盗むために生きてきた 拍手一つだって貰えないステージで

全部嘘だぜ 何だその顔 こんな馬鹿な話があるわけないだろ
今からステージ そう僕の出番さ こう見えてもピアノは得意なんだ

このピアノを聴いて どうだ僕の取って置きの 自慢のクラシックバラード
流れ出すのは 馬鹿な男のメロディー 執行猶予付きの ろくでなし賛歌
ピアノを聴いて どうせ野垂れ死ぬだけの くそったれの人生
それならば ステージの上で拍手喝采 こいつもそんなに悪いもんじゃないぜ