Kip Moore - Guitar Man

Well, I woke to the rise, sun going down Still taste the whiskey, fresh on my mouth Hot cup of coffee, smoke in my hand Another day in the life of a guitar man La de da

Well last night was a good night as I reach in my jeans Crumpled up ones, a few tens in between And a red head named Annie, she's still fast asleep Made me make her a promise, she knows I can't keep La de da

Time to fire up that two tone bucket of rust Throw my amp and my case in the back of my truck Breathe in my freedom with the windows rolled down Forty six miles 'til the next nameless town La de da

Well, the place is still empty when I walk in the door Stench from the beer, spilling up through the floor Give a nod to sweet Lisa, she mixes the drinks Life's been hard on her, but she's been good to me La de da

Off in the shadows Stands a stool and a stage Many souls before me were put on display I take one last breath, time to pay some more dues Won't add up to nothing but tips and cheap booze

Yeah, the fruits of my labor's when the crowd sings along Nothing short of a savior, I go home alone I'm an empty, faceless, spotlight mic stand I'll getcha high, getcha low I'm the guitar man, yeah

Well they'll ask for more love songs and I'll play with a smile To help them hold on or forget for a while They can fill up that jukebox with a week's worth of pay But I can't feel their happy and I can't feel their pain, no

No drums, no pianos, no sweet harmonies It's all in a song and it's all on me Won't find nothing fancy I'm a tired one man band I'm the picking and grinning guitar man

Yeah the fruits of my labor's when the crowd sings along Nothing short of a savior, I go home alone I'm an empty, faceless, spotlight mic stand I'll getcha high, I'll getcha low, I'm the guitar man Yeah

Well I had me a pretty baby, thought she was the one But she soon grew tired of this love on the run She said she felt second, told me I had to choose She's back in Georgia and I'm there with you

The end of the night, we'll all be best friends Then strangers 'tiI roll through town again I'll yell out, "hey Lisa, something cold in a can" One for the road for the guitar man

Yeah the fruits of my labor's when the crowd sings along Nothing short of a savior, still I go home alone I'm an empty, faceless, spotlight mic stand I'll getcha high, getcha low, I'm the guitar man I'll play 'em fast, I'll play 'em slow, I'm the guitar man Yeah