Guitar Man

Well, I woke to the rise, sun going down Still taste the whiskey, still fresh on my mouth Hot cup of coffee, smoke in my hand Another day in the life of the guitar man La de da Well last night was a good night as I reached in my jeans Crumpled up ones, a few tens in between And a red head named Annie, she's still fast asleep Made me make her a promise, she knows I can't keep La de da Time to fire up that two tone bucket of rust Throw my amp and my case in the back of my truck Breathing my freedom, windows rolled down Forty-six miles till the next nameless town La de da Well, the place is still empty when I walk in the door Stench from the beer, spilling up through the floor Give an eye to sweet Lisa, she mixes the drinks Life's been hard on her, but she's been good to me La de da Off in the shadows Stands a stool and a stage Where many souls before me were put on display I take one last breath, time to pay some more dues That won't add up to nothing but tips and cheap booze Yeah, the fruits of my labor is when the crowd sings along Nothing short of a savior, still I go home alone I'm an empty, faceless spotlight mike-stand I'll getcha high, I'll getcha low I'm the guitar man Well they'll ask for more love songs and I'll play with a smile To help them hold on or forget for a while They can fill up that jukebox with a week's worth of pay But it can't fill their happy and it can't fill their pain No drums, no pianos, no sweet harmonies It's all in a song and it's all on me Won't find nothing fancy I'm a tired one man band I'm the picking and grinning guitar man Yeah the fruits of my labor's when the crowd sings along Nothing short of a savior I go home alone I'm an empty, faceless spotlight mic-stand I'll getcha high, I'll getcha low, I'm the guitar man yeah Well I had me a pretty baby, thought she was the one But she soon grew tired, this love on the run Said she felt second, told me I had to choose She's back in Georgia and I'm there with you The end of the night, we'll all be best friends Then strangers till I roll through town again I'll yell out hey Lisa something cold in a can One for the road for the guitar man Yeah the fruits of my labor's when the crowd sings along Nothing short of a savior still I go home alone I'm an empty, faceless spotlight mic-stand I'll getcha high, I'll getcha low, I'm the guitar man yeah I'll play em fast, I'll play em slow, I'm the guitar man Yeah