Thanks to a friend who helped with this one...

Secrets of My Old Six String

That old battered six-string Martin by the fireplace,
It would say a lot if it could only talk.
It would tell it shared the best and worst of me,
Would tell you why I walk the walk, I walk.

It helped me write that song about my baby girl,
It kept the beat when I sang my Dad's last goodbye.
It sang Christmas carols to the seniors at the Shady Rest,
Took the time to hear the north woods sigh.

It traveled across the country in a pick-up truck
It soaked the blood up in a bar room scrap.
It kept me company on a lot of cold lonely night,
Seemed to always want to just curl up on my lap.

It sang many love ballads to my sweethearts,
It sang campfire songs as I drank many a beer.
It never once refused to play with me,
It keeps its tone through all we have to share.

It played a soothing lullaby for my grandbabies,
It toured with us on our vacation trips.
It made me guilty when I bought a new one,
So now the new one has never rested on my hips.

Yes, if that battered old six-string of mine by the fireplace,
Could talk I'm sure I'd love to hear what it would say.
Because it still makes me smile and still comforts me,
Like it did since I took it home that very first day.