Ghost Of Guy Clark

The old man was sitting on the tailgate of a '62 Ford flatbed
 Picking on an old guitar
 He looked at me and said "The engine's dead"
 "It was a good run son", as he strummed a melancholy chord
 "Now I've got nothing but time to kill until the coming of the Lord"
 Well he played me a few songs, one about a Randall knife
 One about a train, one about the pain of losing the love of his life
 He took a puff of that cigarette
 He blew a breath of smoke that could smother
 He said "They always said these would kill me
 And they did" then he laughed and he lit another
 He said "I hear that you write songs boy, play me one that I might know"
 So I sang him my latest greatest hit, a number one on music row
 He stopped me before I could finish the verse
 Said "I think I've heard enough of that
 When you've heard one you've heard em all"
 With a grimace of a grin he took his old guitar back
 He said "I guess that's alright if that's all you've got to give
 If that's all you've got to say in this one life you've got to live
 There's no meaning in your melody so predictable and weak
 Wasted words and shallow rhymes
 I'd Rather hear a woman cuss me a blue streak
 You see, the pencil to the pad is like the bullet to the gun
 The pen is mightier than the sword
 If the words are forged from fire from the sun
 Yet some do it for the fame, the fun, the money and all the glory
 Yet some do it for their weary soul
 Won't rest until they tell their story
 You gotta make 'em feel what you feel
 Help 'em dream a dream and make 'em wonder
 It's like catch lightning in a bottle
 Make 'em smell the rain and hear the thunder
 Let 'em taste the tears of joy or the bittersweet taste of sin
 Find the passion in a four letter word or a Sunday morning Amen
 And then he flicked his ashes and he pointed at my heart
 Said "If you're searching for solid gold, that'd be a real good place to start
 Let the words speak for themselves, tell the truth, right or wrong
 And bare your soul for all to see all for the sake of the song"