Guitar Picker

I remember back when I was sixteen I was sittin' around pickin', just my pops and me When his friend walked up in a cowboy hat Said "I like what your doin', but it ain't worth sap I see this road will leave you cold and alone Old and broke and just a bag of bones So you better take heed to the words I say Stay quite clear of that lost highway" O southern wind, won't you take me high? I got seven ladies dancin' naked by an old camp fire Guitars pickin' with a bottle of wine And I'll be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die Holes in my clothes, I got holes in my shoes I got a hole in the heart, that's why I'm singin' the blues I put some change in my pocket but it's all gone And everything that I do it seems to be wrong So now I'm broke I'm back on the street With a guitar case in front of Tate and me And you better listen up 'cause it ain't no lie Please throw a nickel in when you walk by O southern wind, won't you take me high? It's hard to keep rollin' when all you got is black times Guitars pickin' with a bottle of wine I'll be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die I came in this world with nothin' on my back And I'll leave the same and that's a fact I ain't in it for the money, I ain't in it for the fame And I don't really care if you remember my name So now I gotta to go, I gotta hit the road I gotta do the only thing that I know I got this feelin' deep down and I got to be true And I sure as hell ain't gonna change for you O southern wind wont you take me high When I hear the sounds comin' from an amplifier Guitars pickin' with a bottle of wine And I'll be an old broke guitar picker, lord --- Guitar Picker - Whiskey Myers