Lyrics

My father died in two thousand and eleven
His old guitar came home with me to stay
For years it rested in its case, uncherished and unloved
I'm a lefty, it's right handed, it was just too hard to play

Now I'm looking at my father's old guitar
It's been hanging on that wall for far too long
Blond maple archtop, rosewood neck, a beauty in its day
It's hanging there so silently, just waiting to be played

Nineteen fifty eight was the year that it was bought
A Senator by Hofner, now it's dusty and forlorn
I used to play it as a child, just like an upright bass
When father came into the room a smile lit up his face

I'm Strumming on my father's old guitar
His DNA is steeped within the wood
I wish that I could play the chords he showed me years ago
Augmented fifths and minor ninths, I can't remember how

Nineteen fifty eight is the year that I was born
This guitar's always been there, once brand new, but now it's worn
With love, new strings, a small repair, it's sounding bright and clear
It's the only thing I have of his, the one thing I hold dear

I'm trying to play my father's old guitar
I'm Learning how to play it upside down
I can feel his presence next to me, like all those years ago
The chords he tried to teach me, I'm remembering somehow

Nineteen fifty eight is the year we both were born
A Senator by Hofner and a boy now fully grown
Who's trying to make a living, playing music, writing songs
This old guitar, I'll pass it to my son, when I am gone
I'll pass it to my son, when I am gone.