I Left My Guitar In Austin

Somehow during Tuesday night trivia at a local bar, the subject of my guitar came up and I said “I left my guitar in Austin”.  The husband of a friend of mine immediately said “that sounds like a country song”.  So I jotted that line down on a piece of paper with the full intention of actually writing that country song.  Of course, work was crazy busy this week.  Then I had a meet and greet to go to on Friday, followed by a karaoke party on Saturday.

But now I am going to attempt it.  I am basically going to do the freestyle version of song writing, only I’ll be using my laptop keyboard instead of standing in front of a mic.  This has “fail” written all over it, but you have my word that once I start writing the song, I will not take any breaks (unless I have to walk to the fridge for a beer – this is a country song, after all).  In fact, I’m going to go pee right now so my writing flow will not be interrupted by nature’s flow.  I’ll be right back.

Ok, I’m back.  Time to dim the background music (Bob Schneider’s “Let’s Roll” and “Tarantula”) and get going.  What follows is intended to be a song, lame as it might turn out, titled “I Left My Guitar in Austin”.

Good friends, goats, and cheesy cheese jokes
Lots of Lone Star beer and various smokes
It’s always full throttle, pedal to the metal
When I visit my family in the Texas state capital

There are no boots or trucks for us
Just lots of laughs and other stuff
Patio banter and a cab ride from a bar
And of course there is always my guitar

Balmy spring turned cold on Sunday
Hitting us outside smokers in the worst way
Hanging in the garage, getting drunk
I was asked to get the guitar from my trunk

I don’t even remember what I played
Doesn’t matter, we like it that way
Strummed a few songs, feeling a bit high
I set my six string buddy up on its side

I left the next morning, headed back north
Mind still hazy, for whatever that’s worth
Laptop and clothes safely packed in my car
Then in Temple I realized I left my guitar

I left my guitar in Austin
Played it while reeling, and without much feeling
I left my guitar in Austin
I know it’s in good hands, in the garage it stands
I left my guitar in Austin
Stained with Maria’s tacos, that’s how it goes
I left my guitar in Austin
And that’s where it will stay, until the Masons come my way

I left my guitar in Austin

Like I said, “fail” written all over this. I did not realize how hard it would be to write a song without actually having my guitar nearby. I think I left it somewhere…



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