He sits against the tree,
Pondering of all this to be,
And what had been,
Especially his mistakes,
He's got his old lyric book on one side him,
And his guitar on the other.

He tries to write,
He tries and tries and tries,
But all that comes to mind is her,
He's got a lyric phrase on his paper beside him,
And a guitar in his lap.

He's got a head full old bad mistakes,
And a heart full of hurt from the pain he caused her,
Tears burning his eyes,
A full page of song lyrics in the tattered book beside him,
And a guitar neck in his hand's cold grasp

He's got a lump in his throat,
Remorse in his heart,
Tear Smudged, scribbled lyrics written in pencil...
And a guitar imitating the sounds dreadful frets in between his fingertips