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(The Guitar Man) |
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Daddy Frank played the guitar and the |
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French harp |
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Sister played the ringing tambourine |
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Mama couldn't hear our pretty music |
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She read our lips and helped the family sing |
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That little band was all a part of living |
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And our only means of living at the time |
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And it wasn't like no normal family combo' |
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Cause daddy |
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Frank, the guitar man was blind |
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Frank and mama counted on each other |
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Their one and only weakness made them strong |
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Mama did the driving for the family |
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And Frank made a living with a song |
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Home was just a camp along the highway |
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A pickup bed was where we bedded down |
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Don't ever once remember going hungry |
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But I remember mama cooking on the ground |
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Don't remember how they got acquainted |
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I can't recall just how it came to be |
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There had to be some special help from someone |
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And blessed be the one that let it be |
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Fever caused my mama's loss of hearing |
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Daddy Frank was born without his sight |
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And mama needed someone she could lean on |
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And I believe the guitar man was right |
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Daddy Frank played the guitar and the |
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French harp |
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Sister played the ringing tambourine |
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Mama couldn't hear our pretty music |
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She read our lips and helped the family sing |
