Lead man in the Rock and Roll band
Rhythym in the local quartet
Playing live for the down town five
The guitar man is a sure

He kept to the corners in the dim and smoke-filled room,
So easy just to overlook amid the dank and gloom,
He asked for a

The Guitaress

Her fingertips are singing ancient songs,
Preceding word, when only music shone.
She strings me down a river

This old guitar
Was mothers' best friend
through thick and thin.

It held all her thoughts
spoken through melody
words whispered

 
He sat near the edge of the lone precipice,
Just strumming his twelve-string with angelic bliss.
The shades of condemned