This Old Guitar And Me

This old guitar and me

And the things that we've been through

C.F. Martin built him

Back in nineteen fourty-two

I remember when we met

I was only seventeen

I spent all my college money

On a half a dozen strings

I thought my folks would kill me

I found out I was wrong

They said your future's written on your face

When you sing those travelin' songs

So we headed for Kentucky

With a suitcase full of dreams

My rough-out books, a few t-shirts

A worn out pair of jeans

Ooh...

This old guitar and me

We spent a lot of nights alone

Well, sometimes we'd get lucky

And take bar maid home

One night stands for breakfast

Two strangers with the blues

We'd wake up in the morning

And both feel a little used

Well, home was just a highway

We'd roam from town to town

Just me and that old flattop

Not caring where we're bound

>From Maine to California

With a five piece travelin' band

Singin' songs about the hard times

That face the common man

Ooh...

This old guitar and me

Lord, we did the best we could

One was born a sinner

And one a piece of wood

God sent a wooden angel

To guide me on my way

We were meant to be together

Until my dyin' day

Well, now my dearest old companion

Lies underneath my bed

Well, our travelin' days are over

Man, but the memories fill my head

Well, I've settled with my family

Here in the hills of Tennessee

To teach my children's children

'Bout this old guitar and me

Ooh...