Hey, girl; Been around a bit haven't we?
Camped when it was 100 above
And often not given a f***
Because wedidn't have a truck
But we still made the rodeo.
Made 'em weep didn't we?
Laugh too, and often dance.
I remember walking into that camp in Virginia
Where I tickled your fancies
And the Meet stopped because a lady had shown up.
Or the time in Nova Scotia
When the man said "Noone like that should have to buy her own beer"
Those hours when I got lost
Stroking your tunings.
I went broke in Austin but never hungry
With you alongside.
There's ships in Charlestown,
And Cutty Sarks in Baltimore
Still dance to you.
We've done a bit, old lass.
Fed pols in Annapolis,
And homeless where we found them.
Blessed weddings, sung for babies,
And requiems we've writ.
Brought tears to many eyes
Aye, and smiles and laughter too;
And ruined "We Shall Overcome"
And made 'Puff" rhyme with screw.
Have taken Jimmy Buffet
Made him sound like Walter Scott;
Have thought about Puff Daddy
But you said "I'd rather not!"
On English streams and hills and Dales
You always did decide
The tone, lament, or other tune
And, crossing the Divide;
Jack London Square
You fed us there
And kept us whole and hale;
Goodbye, old friend,
The songs you send....

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An ode to my guitar. She's been with me for a while, but she's got a crack I'm not sure we can fix. After Karen, probably my best friend