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Her name is Cherry |
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We've just met |
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But already she knows me |
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Better than you |
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She understands me |
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After eighteen years |
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And you still don't see me |
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Like you ought to do |
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Maybe we could talk 'bout things |
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If you was made of wood and strings |
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While I love her every sound |
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I dunno how to turn you down |
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You're so thick and my patience thin |
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So I got me a knew best friend |
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With a pickup that puts you to shame |
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And Cherry is her name |
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And when I'm lonely |
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Cherry's there |
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And she plays along |
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While I sing out my blues |
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I could be crying |
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And you don't care |
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You won't call me back |
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You're stubborn as mule |
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Maybe we could talk 'bout things |
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If you was made of wood and strings |
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You might think I've gone too far |
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I'm talking 'bout my new guitar |
![Cherry [live]](/storage/9/85711.jpg "Cherry [live]")