Five Shiny Strings

a man was plucking five shiny strings yesterday
he was "goin up cripple creek"
i wish i was too

i sit here and look at my guitar
how lonely it must be
without its partner
without its mentor
the music they once made
your banjo and my guitar
riding the Fireball Mail

i remember that night
a phone call telling me you had died
i remember that night
tears on the floor where my guitar had cried