Old Guitar Music & Lyrics by Roy Evan Burstiner
I'm playing notes on an old guitar, singing my songs from near to far.
Beat up notebook to carry my tunes, leaving each town by the afternoon.
Throwing my belongings in a run down car, I'm just a man with an old guitar.
Missing a string but it don't matter much, the ones still there are cool to the touch.
Frets are worn but they feel so good, neck is warped and there's cracks in the wood.
Always sounds good in those roadside bars, I'm just a man with an old guitar.
I'm going down this dusty road. Carrying nothing but this heavy load.
Traveling by day from town to town, this old guitar just gets around.
Sitting right here on the stage tonight. Spotlight shining on me oh sobright.
Barroom empty 'cept for one or two. Playing for drinks and a buck or two.
I'll never be a big rock and roll star. I'm just a man with an old guitar.
Don't know the town I'm passing through, I never need a lot to do.
Packing my bag by the rising sun, hitting the road like a hired gun.
Killing time at a local cafe. Years have passed and I'm passing away.
At my age I should settle down, find me a woman in a nice small town
But right now I'm jumping in my rundown car. I'm just a man with an old guitar.
Beat up notebook to carry my tunes, leaving each town by the afternoon.
Throwing my belongings in a run down car, I'm just a man with an old guitar.
Missing a string but it don't matter much, the ones still there are cool to the touch.
Frets are worn but they feel so good, neck is warped and there's cracks in the wood.
Always sounds good in those roadside bars, I'm just a man with an old guitar.
I'm going down this dusty road. Carrying nothing but this heavy load.
Traveling by day from town to town, this old guitar just gets around.
Sitting right here on the stage tonight. Spotlight shining on me oh sobright.
Barroom empty 'cept for one or two. Playing for drinks and a buck or two.
I'll never be a big rock and roll star. I'm just a man with an old guitar.
Don't know the town I'm passing through, I never need a lot to do.
Packing my bag by the rising sun, hitting the road like a hired gun.
Killing time at a local cafe. Years have passed and I'm passing away.
At my age I should settle down, find me a woman in a nice small town
But right now I'm jumping in my rundown car. I'm just a man with an old guitar.