Poor Man's Martin

Track 8, Coming Home Written, Performed, Produced by Rob Cattermole Franklin Tennessee A flap top from Nazareth PA I wanted but the price I couldn't pay Then one day I saw one that looked the same So I asked could I give it a play As soon as I held her I was home When my thumb strummed I loved her tone Ninety dollars won't get you far But it brought me my guitar Every room I've played with her on my knee I've felt on stage at the Opry can you believe To some she's a poor man's Martin But to me she's a life companion No way I'd trade her in 'Cause I feel rich when I'm playin' My poor man's Martin The lines on her face show her age One for each year we spent on stage I think of all the songs we made My love for her will never fade The day my dad passed away Tears fell on her shoulder as I played all day To some she's a poor man's Martin But to me she's a life companion No way I'd trade her in 'Cause I feel rich when I'm playin' My poor man's Martin What's thrown away can be treasure How old we are, ain't no measure What is broken can be golden Like this box with strings I'm holding To some she's a poor man's Martin But to me she's a life companion She saves my soul even more now I'm old I'm grateful whenever I'm playin' My poor man's Martin, My poor man's Martin © 2024 Rob Cattermole / Pin Mill Records (ASCAP)