Real Audio

The Advice

His teeth looked like the bridge pins to Old Hank Williams' Gibson
And from his sound hole hung a cigarette
He was flat wound up and wired... his eyes were old and tired
But his bony fingers still knew how to fret
I was a whole bunch younger and burning with a hunger
To make the kind of music that he made
So I stuck out my right hand introduced myself and
Asked for the advice he freely gave
He said son they might just carve this on my grave

Don't sell your soul for a song
Life's more than three minutes long
Sing from the heart true and strong
But don't sell your soul for a song

He said I've seen poets do it... some of them live through it
Even though fame comes to grant their wish
They trade their wild sweet ranting for something more like panting
The kind you see in gills of landed fish
He said buddy you can't breathe it...you can't drink or eat it
You can't even wear fame like a coat
It starts out like a gold crown but as it grows it slips down
And ends up like a collar round your throat
And sometimes when it shrinks it makes you choke

Don't sell your soul for a song
Life's more than three minutes long
Sing from the heart true and strong
But don't sell your soul for a song

When he got done talking he turned and started walking
To an old bus parked behind the bar
He called out good luck to ya...don't let nobody do ya
Out of all that helped you get this far
They'll take the better part of who you are

Don't sell your soul for a song
Life's more than three minutes long
Sing from the heart true and strong
But don't sell your soul for a song
His teeth looked like the bridge pins to Old Hank Williams' Gibson
And from his sound hole hung a cigarette

 

© Flying Stone Music 1996

 

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