This Old Guitar

This old guitar echoes the worn and tattered fret board of my soul
We share the dents and scratches of a life that did not gently unfold
From the San Francisco shoreline, back to our youthful southern pride
This old guitar and I couldn’t part ways if I tried

Silent six strings sat next to me at a truck stop outside of Memphis
Thumb out in the pouring rain, heading to a job in Los Banos
We’ve charmed a few women, we once charmed a friend’s wife
This old guitar knows the best and darkest moments of my life

This old guitar can pull the poison from me
We’ve sung the blues about lost love
I reach for it when the bottle calls
I can never let this old guitar get far

This old guitar has healed the wounds left by unfaithful lovers
We serenaded stars in the night sky and discovered
The rhythms of my heart and the harmonies of the flesh
Our sullen wonderings and our eternal restlessness

We played loud and sloppy at all night parties out west
We played soft, low and sweet when we laid a dear friend to rest
We hear the road calling and recount the endless miles
This old guitar and me have been one for a while

This old guitar knows me to the bone
In these years I’ve never felt alone
When its time to put me in the ground
Make sure this old guitar follows me down

This old guitar echoes the worn and tattered fret board of my soul