|
This guitar only sings the way I play it, |
|
It's part of me, just like another arm |
|
It started out as a little ukulele, |
|
When I was just a boy on the farm |
|
My fingers were too lazy for piano |
|
But I could hold a tune pretty good |
|
And I couldn't sing a song with a trombone |
|
So I taught myself to play this piece of wood |
|
But I know you are staying beside me |
|
True lovers we both feel the pain |
|
And I'd throw this old box on the fire |
|
Before I'd ever lose you again. |
|
Well you never did like this old guitar, did you darling? |
|
'Cause the guitar takes your man away from you |
|
One day I'll write a song for you darling, |
|
That'll be the very best that I can do |
|
Will it be a song about a wild wind, |
|
With thunderclap and flashes of blue |
|
Or will it be a song about an angel? |
|
It'll never be as beautiful as you |
|
This guitar only sings the way I play it, |
|
It's part of me, just like another arm |
|
It started out as a little ukulele, |
|
When I was just a boy on the farm |
|
But now I am a man with a woman |
|
The words I wanna say won't come through |
|
No matter where this guitar's gonna take us |
|
It'll never be as beautiful as you |
