Lyrics Guitar Man - Kip Moore

Guitar Man

Well, I woke to the rise, sun going down
Still taste the whiskey, still fresh on my mouth
Hot cup of coffee, smoke in my hand
Another day in the life of the guitar man
La de da
Well last night was a good night as I reached in my jeans
Crumpled up ones, a few tens in between
And a red head named Annie, she’s still fast asleep
Made me make her a promise, she knows I can’t keep
La de da
Time to fire up that two tone bucket of rust
Throw my amp and my case in the back of my truck
Breathing my freedom, windows rolled down
Forty-six miles till the next nameless town
La de da
Well, the place is still empty when I walk in the door
Stench from the beer, spilling up through the floor
Give an eye to sweet Lisa, she mixes the drinks
Life’s been hard on her, but she’s been good to me
La de da
Off in the shadows
Stands a stool and a stage
Where many souls before me were put on display
I take one last breath, time to pay some more dues
That won’t add up to nothing but tips and cheap booze
Yeah, the fruits of my labor is when the crowd sings along
Nothing short of a savior, still I go home alone
I’m an empty, faceless spotlight mike-stand
I’ll getcha high, I’ll getcha low
I’m the guitar man
Well they’ll ask for more love songs and I’ll play with a smile
To help them hold on or forget for a while
They can fill up that jukebox with a week’s worth of pay
But it can’t fill their happy and it can’t fill their pain
No drums, no pianos, no sweet harmonies
It’s all in a song and it’s all on me
Won’t find nothing fancy I’m a tired one man band
I’m the picking and grinning guitar man
Yeah the fruits of my labor’s when the crowd sings along
Nothing short of a savior I go home alone
I’m an empty, faceless spotlight mic-stand
I’ll getcha high, I’ll getcha low, I’m the guitar man yeah
Well I had me a pretty baby, thought she was the one
But she soon grew tired, this love on the run
Said she felt second, told me I had to choose
She’s back in Georgia and I’m there with you
The end of the night, we’ll all be best friends
Then strangers till I roll through town again
I’ll yell out hey Lisa something cold in a can
One for the road for the guitar man
Yeah the fruits of my labor’s when the crowd sings along
Nothing short of a savior still I go home alone
I’m an empty, faceless spotlight mic-stand
I’ll getcha high, I’ll getcha low, I’m the guitar man yeah
I’ll play em fast, I’ll play em slow, I’m the guitar man
Yeah