my first guitar was made for someone right-handed
as a lefty, I was feeling somewhat stranded
didn't know the difference
thought it was too hard to learn
kids in the neighborhood
played 'till their fingers would burn
and we would sing and we would rhyme
played all through the night
not knowing the time
that feeling you get on stage like a star
you wish for that moment with your red guitar
with a catalogue
ordered that six-string for Christmas
a Gibson copy
the first thing I placed on my wish list
been all around from bedrooms
to backyards and basements
distinct sounds gets harder to find a replacement
those late nights kept all our neighbors awake
out of tune, wailing to songs we would fake
hot summer fun, sitting out back with a friend
here comes the rain, continue to play and pretend
