whose callouses pressed your dirt filled strings
old & worn, bendable, your neck is warped
like a tired back, hunched over
sun burst, paint chipped on the lower right
how many times have you been dropped?
the only secret you have is exposed to
anyone who cares to look at you
a cracked headstock means you can
never hold yourself in tune
tell me of the ghosts of your fretboard
what songs have come from your throat
how loud were you? where was the loudest?
a dive bar? a playhouse? roseland ballroom?
the years passed have not been kind to you
let me take you home, fix your headstock
change your machine heads, i’ll call Vincent
he’s always been delicate with all of my
beauties, you will be the new girl in town
we’ll treat you right, play you out of a nice
tube amp, show off your newly cleaned fretboard,
new strings, i’m going to get you a new guard
there’s something beautiful about you
let your history wail through
your pickups, & no one or no thing
cant take away the fact that you
are still wanted, still valuable
to anyone who can see how
beautiful you are.