Lonesome Troubador

S. Celestini © 2007

Get up off of your davenport, baby, wipe your weepy eyes Say goodbye to those pre-fab rockers and their one-four-fivin' lies It's another type of man you need, one that respects your pain Who can tell you just how lovely you are in a seven word refrain Find yourself a tin cup singer, lend an ear to his heartfelt score And you'll find yourself a fallin' for a lonesome troubador, singin' Hi-de-lay, ho-de-li Your last guy left you hurtin', left you longing for so much more Hi-de-lay, ho-de-li Better find yourself a lonesome troubador Don't fall for coffee shop hipsters, baby, they're too damn self-absorbed And them hotel lobby crooners are tuxedoed music whores What you need's a fella who's livin' hand to mouth from guitar case change Who'd just as soon stop breathin' as give up his minstrel ways He's the one at your local diner, playing guitar on a greasy floor Singing a song 'bout a good hearted woman, and her lonesome troubador, singin' Chorus 2x Better find yourself a lonesome troubador

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