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
