There’s a guitar here in the window   I’d like to play before it’s sold.   It’s such a classic, mint condition,   Great shape for one this old.      Now all these axes have their stories,   Of the gigs that they have seen   But when this one sold the first time   I was seventeen.      ‘Course back then I didn’t want it   It was way too new for me.   I needed something old and righteous   With its own authority.      So the first guitar I ever bought   Was twice as old as me   ‘Cause its life was full of music,   As I dreamed that mine might be.      And I played that thing a thousand nights   And traded it away   For something slightly newer   That was easier to play.      But now lately I buy new guitars   They’re shiny as a hearse.   I still like the look of road wear,   But the roles have been reversed.      And now this thing is a classic   But I still don’t need to buy.   Yeah, the old one’s have their stories   But by now…   So do I.