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about

The song you are about to hear is true; the names have been changed to keep my ass out of jail.

lyrics

He sits on a barstool to watch the big game,
While I sit and play my guitar.
He hollers, 'Hey buddy, now what was your name?
'To get here, didja have to drive far?'
Before I can answer he orders a drink,
Makes a pass at the barmaid and gives her a wink,
And forgets all about me as his nose turns to pink,
While I sit and play my guitar.

Two rows behind me sits a family of four
Who came out to have a nice meal.
The mother looks fragile, the father looks bored
'Til the little girls let out a squeal.
They sound like the brakes on an 18-wheeled truck,
The drunk at the bar does a cover and duck
And I'm thinkin' that I should avoid the word 'flammable'
While I sit and play my guitar.

There's a loving young couple in the booth in the back
Who are lost in a world of their own.
They could star in a movie called 'When Tongues Attack'
Coming soon to your nearest iPhone.
In her left-hip pocket she's got a bus pass,
Peaking out through the rip that shows off half her ass,
But her boyfriend will find it before it's lost in the grass,
While I sit and play my guitar.

Strutting up to me is a former prom queen with a song that she just has to hear.
She flashes a smile and she's workin' her jeans that she's got painted onto her rear.
She could once make a man thank God he was a live,
But her trim girlish figure didn't really survive,
She's been poundin' the Pounders since '75,
While I sit and play my guitar.

There's John the owner, he's in charge of this crew,
And he walks through the room with a grin.
He just loves my music and all the songs I can do,
And he thanks me for bringing folks in.
I can't hear my voice for the roar of the crowd,
That fills up the building and batters the clouds,
And he says, 'Can you turn down, you're a little too loud,
While you sit there, playin' your guitar.'

I have been here five hours, but it feels like ten years,
My fingers are tingling and sore.
As I case up my Martin and tear down my gear,
Someone yells, 'Buddy, play just one more!'
'You're a heluva picker; you're our favorite draw;
Do you know any Skynnerd? how about some Outlaws?'
But my tip jar is empty and I'm pissed-off because,
All their talk is dirt-cheap, you can't spend the applause
That you get when you're playin' guitar.

credits

from Daydreams and Delusions: What dreams may come . . ., released May 4, 2012

license

all rights reserved

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about

Pete Grubbs image

Pete Grubbs Brookville, Pennsylvania

I started performing music when I was 6, turned pro at 20ish & spent well over 30 years tracking down as many gigs a month as possible. While those days are behind me, I'm still making calculated noise. My music lives where rock, classical, folk, blues & parody hang out. Oddly enough, one of their favorite haunts appears to be in collections of my songs--you'll find a bit of each on every track. ... more

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