He Made That Guitar Sing

He Made That Guitar Sing
By Bonnie Johnson (Rivas)

I went to listen to his music,
Someone told me he was good,
Said he could really make,
A guitar take off and sing.

Looking like a young Chris Christopherson,
He brought those strings to life,
And made that guitar laugh and cry,
And yes, he made it sing.

As the sun set on pale pink skies,
He transported us in time,
To smoky rooms and champagne bubbles,
His riffs did dance and sing,

Right through your soul,
To tapping feet and hands,
Sitting still was not an option,
When he made that guitar sing.

When he put his guitar down,
You knew you hadn’t had enough,
He left you wanting just,
Once more to hear that guitar sing.

Walking out into the night,
The crescent moon above,
His music echoed in the air,
Yes, he made that guitar sing.