Name: The Girl With The Lonely Hank
Channel: Bob T. Guevara
Description: "The Girl With The Lonely Hank" is a song by Bob T Guevara. I song I wrote about something that happened to me down in France.

The Girl With The Lonely Hank

Bob T Guevara

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I song I wrote about something that happened to me down in France.

folk protest bob t guevara antifacist

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Bob T Guevara

Hey there folks, this is Bob T. Guevara, making old and new music for all of you. Political, poetical, sensitive, funny, and whatever else you like.

Song Info

Genre

Acoustic • Acoustic Guitar

Charts

Peak #2,454

Peak in subgenre #494

Author

Bob T. Guevara

Uploaded

December 30, 2004

Track Files

MP3

MP3 3.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00

Story behind the song

I wrote that song after a Bob Dylan concert I attended. It's a true story (well, more or less ;-)).

Lyrics

She stood there in the crowd
Not five feet away from me
And she really looked beautiful
As far as I could see.
But the most caused my stir
Those few mystic hairs
That fell down her right temple
Like not even a waterfall would dare.

Usually I don't care much 'bout hairs
But she looked with that lonely hank
Just like a mystic elvish queen
Really nice, ya know, not just swank.
She didn't look like a super-model
For which so much men haunt.
Ya know that kinda only bones-and-skin
But that's anyway not what I want.

She really looked the way,
How I dream of a girl.
Not perfect not over-rouged,
Nowadays a rare pearl.
You might have disagreed,
But I know that on my sense
Of a nice girl
much men wouldn't spend ten cents.

Well, I spied her long before
He begun to play
And already the first short glance
Affected me in somekinda way
That I believe now on love
On the first sight
The hall around was dark
But her I could see very bright.

Now I couldn't stop to turn my head
To the place where she did stand
And when she smiled the way back to me
I felt like walkin' with her hand in hand.
And once again I could kill
Me for my lack
Of courage and spontaneity
'cause I did not smile back.

She was there with her whole famely
Whith her sister, mom and dad.
Her cute sitser was even to small
To see over the crowd, so sad.
Unfortunately they were talkin' in french
So I understood hardly a word.
But her soft voice was so dulcet
That I was happy 'bout everthing I heard.

The master finally opened
The concert with a nice tune.
We clapped our hands together
And shouted like woolves to the moon.
But I really couldn't tell whether
I looked at him or her the more,
Though he was the one
I drove down here to France for.

I really resolved to
talk with her after the show,
So after the encore when she left
With her famely I did follow.
They stood yet for a while
Outside the building and I kept on
Thinking what to tell her
But when I turned my head back ... she was gone.

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