There are a million miles of guitar string
between me and you, the memory of Nashville, and my broken teenage heart
what a fool I was, and not even a good fool
not even a crying in a beer fool
just a grasshopper type fool
then decades later--I thought I met a master
he wore a dark hood
and talked of Draconian things
and I thought he must be the king of the underworld
or maybe the mountain
and his harsh words surely meant he knew it all
no one knows it all
and it seems silly now
like a toy necklace.
