Guitar Picker Lyrics

I remember back when I was sixteen
I was sittin' around picking, just my pops and me
When his friend walked up in a cowboy hat
Said I like what your doin' but it ain't where it's at
I see this road will leave you cold, alone
Old and broke and a bag of bones
So you better take heed to the words I say
And stay right clear of that lost highway

Chorus:

Oh southern wind wont you take me high
I got seven ladies dancin' naked 'round an old camp fire
Guitar pickin' with a bottle of wine
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 my heart, that's why I'm singin' the blues
It put my 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

Chorus:

Oh southern wind wont you take me high
It's hard to keep rollin' when all you got are flat tires
Guitar pickin' with a bottle of wine
Ill be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die

I came in this world with nothin' on my back
I'll leave the same and that's a fact
Ain't in it for the money, ain't in it for the fame
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 feeling deep down and I got to be true
and I sure as hell ain't gonna change for you

Chorus:

Oh southern wind wont you take me high
When i hear the sounds comin' from an amplifier
Guitar pickin' with a bottle of wine
I'll be an old broke guitar picker

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