THE GOLDEN GUITAR

I walked into a honkey tonk the other night down in New Orleans.
Up above the bar hung a big guitar, like none I'd ever seen.
The neck was set with diamonds, and although the strings were old,
Like kings of sound, they wound around six keys of solid gold.

A man stepped up beside me; his breath was strong of wine.
He said, "That guitar once belonged to a real close pal of mine.
He used to play it right here; it was '45, I think.
I could tell you quite a story if you'd care to buy me a drink."

Well, possessed by every weakness that makes a man a fool,
I bought a round and he drank it down, then he sat back on his stool.
"I remember now," he said. "It was '45, alright.
he'd just returned from the great war, that's where he lost his sight.

"His buddies gave him that guitar; at the time it was simple and plain.
He added the gold and jewels as he played his way to fame.
He was playing a job in Shreveport on the night he received the call:
'Come on up to the Grand Ol' Opry, the greatest show of all.'

"I was driving him to Nashville; it was misty and freezing rain.
The whistle blew and the signals flashed, but I swear, Mister, I never saw that train.
I heard the Doctor say just after he's used his knife,
'You're lucky, son; it was only your arm; it could have been your life.'

"But he died that night; life just demanded more than he could give.
I think he could have made it but he just lost his will to live.
But, this earth's loss is Heaven's gain, 'cause tonight he's still a star.
he plays with a band of angels; that's my son's golden guitar."


Sure it's kinda hokey in places, but that line, ..life just demanded more than he could give.. always gets to me. Been there, done it.