Can I touch your guitar?
Let me feel its smooth round contours;
All the things that you are
It reflects back for us to see.
Even though you're a star,
Must you always take it on tours?
Its strings are like spun gold,
The keys my fancies hold,
And the nut on the end has sold itself to me.
Music flows from therein,
And it makes me want to jump to heaven;
From San Jose to Marin,
It fills a listener's heart with glee.
We all lose our chagrin
When it plays its G11;
I have heard many kinds,
But the brand you play is quite unique;
It has blown many minds
From sea to shining sea.
I must touch its fine lines;
That's the only future that I seek.
Money is music
When your instrument is worth the price;
Things start cooking when you play
If your ax is able to supply the spice.
Nothing else can affect
Me the way your soundbox does;
It is richly bedecked
With every form of nicety.
I will tell you direct:
You have to let me play it, 'cuz
(Repeat 1st verse and chorus)
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