Ode To The CA Guitar

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of carbon-fiber,
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There's a gray one and a gray one
And a gray one and a gray one
And they're all made out of carbon-fiber
And they all look just the same.

And the people who own them
All gather and have a jam,
And they all get out their boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
Owned by farmers and architects
And newspaper editors,
And they're all made out of carbon-fiber
And they all look just the same.                

And they want to take a picture
So they lean them up against a wall,
Yes they all get out their boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
When they go back to collect them
Nobody knows which one is whose
'Cause they're all made out of carbon-fiber
And they all look just the same.