In a Song

There was an old white haired man where I come from The cold Virginia streets is where he called his home Yeah he loved to drink corn liquor from a jar He sang out of tune and pound this old guitar With a nickel for a pick and four old rusty strings He made you feel every word when he'd play and sing All the leaves were changing colors, and the nights were gettin' cold He said, "Promise me you'll take this old guitar when I go." And in a song, in a song Write a line or two about me And don't forget me when I'm gone In a song, in a song Son, I love the thought of you carrying on A little piece of me In a song Yeah well I left that town running With fifty bucks and that old guitar I never thought I'd see thirty years and still not be a star It may be hard to make a living, but I wouldn't change a thing Ah who needs money anyway when you're livin' out a dream And in a song, in a song I've sang about my life and every seed that I've sown In a song, in a song Someday I hope someone carries on A little piece of me in a song Some people they take pictures To tell the story of their lives Memories and footprints frozen in time And I hope to keep mine all alive In a song In a song In a song Yeah I hope they write good things abouts me when I'm gone You know I'll be right here where I belong In a song In a song In a song In a song In a song Ooo-ooo-ooo Awe-awe