Lyrics

I woke up to the rain in Kentucky
The rain kept falling and pouring in my shoes
Well I was thinking of you and feeling all alone
Thinking of you and giving myself the blues

Chorus
I’m just a guitar picking, singing playing fool
And I don’t think I’m going to make it home
I’m just a guitar picking, singing playing fool
And I don’t think I’m going to make it home

I got here last week from Colorado
Made it all the way to where I stand
Last night I was playing a club out in L. A.
Drowning all my sorrows in the sand

I’m just a guitar picking, singing playing fool
And I don’t think I’m going to make it home
I’m just a guitar picking, singing playing fool
And I don’t think I’m going to make it home

I’ve played a lot of date and important places
I’ve made a lot of money with my old guitar
But what good is the money I can make
If I can’t get to where you are