I looked at her twice;
I knew I knew that face;
Couldn't recall the time,
Couldn't recall the place.
She said she'd been a member
Of an acoustic folk rock band,
Showed me the callused tips of
The fingers of her fretting hand,
Wandered off to look behind
That empty old clubroom bar
And came back to me holding
Her well aged Gibson guitar;
Which she fingered lovingly
As she laughed and spoke
About that first audition
When they thought she was a joke.
With that big old twelve stringer
She'd restrung so she could play
With ease and comfort in
Her odd left handed way.
They laughed before I started,
She said with her huge smile
But I played them some blues
In a Broonzy Mississippi style.
And I knew I'd won them over
Knew I'd won my place
As I switched to some Django
And saw that look on his face.
And I could see fingers twitching
And he said with a grin,
Sister you are something else
D' you mind if we all join in.
And we jammed for a while
Well over a full hour
And this old Gibson won them
With its tone and power.
Later I became his partner
Though never a formal wife;
Never seemed to find the time
In our very busy touring life.
For five exciting years
Until I'd had my fill
And I left him and the band
And we parted with good will.
She showed me some photos
Taken in a famous hall,
And I knew those faces,
Recognised them one and all;
And then she stroked the strings
Played the blues just for me
And that old twelve stringer
Seemed to set her free.
She stroked its body gently
As she finished her last song,
Smiled at me quietly,
And then the mood was gone.
Time to get back to work she said
You've heard enough I think
Then she slipped behind that bar
And poured me another drink.
I watched her all that night
Serving punters with her smile.
Saw how she won them
With her easy going style,
And I remembered back then
To what seemed another age
When she'd held me thrilled
From that concert hall stage.
I knew I'd known that face
And as I walked along
Thought of our long chat
And hummed one of her songs
