Once more she finds herself in a Nashville hotel.
She does things here for money that she’d rather  not tell.
She came To music city with her battered  old guitar.
But dreams without luck never get you very far.

The streets here are crowded with others as well,
Whose voices were lacking or whose  tunes didn’t sell:
Her friend Bob drives the tour bus all the day long
Telling tales to the tourists; where did he go wrong?
He came here to write and he joined BMI
Now his hair is receding as the years pass him by.

She herself dreamed of performing in the old grand oprey,
But the call never came and her rent isn’t free.
So now she performs nightly in the finest hotels
For small select audiences who pay her well.
It’s not the sheet music that she had in mind
As she gives voice to a tune as old as mankind.