( ANOTHER SONG I WROTE ABOUT A LAD I MET IN U S A LONG TIME AGO )
Ever since he was just a lad
There was only one dream he ever had
He wanted to play guitar and be the best~
One day he d saved enough to buy
A dobro the colour of the sky
And he practiced wvery day to pass each test~
Ever since he was in fifth grade
He became the dobro picken fool
He knew every song and tune there was to play~
He made that thing just seem to talk
It was as if that thing could dance an talk an all
His world became music night and day~
He d knock out a tune as good as the best
Learnt to sing with a country cry
And theyd all stop and listen as they passed by~
And children around how theyd all dance
The old would sit and listen on a sunny day
Benieth the trees and under the bluest sky~
They all called him the Dobro picken fool
Always sitten upon his makeshift stool
Upon his fathers porch away up on that hill~
Youd see people sitten on the ground
All listnen to that country sound
He sure could play , most say they can hear him still~
But one mornen they took him away
Before the very break of day
They said the lad had died within his sleep~
And the whole town this day came out to see
Why this mornen was as quiet as can be
For they couldnt hear a sound not a peep~
The whole town they came to remember
On that sad last day in december
The kid they called the Dobro picken fool~
Now they have a statue and a plaque
And sometimes they say when its dark
They can still hear him as he sits upon that stool~
Ever since he was just a lad
There was only one dream that he had
Was to play guitar and be among the best~
Well one thing for sure he ll be for evermore
the Dobro picken fool that passed his every test~
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