Looking for My Martin Guitar
Twenty, July 69, Houston is Calling
Woodstock was coming soon Armstrong walking on the moon
I was walking near and far
Looking for my lost guitar
On a hot Crete afternoon
At small Greek farms and local bars
I followed every lead I could
People glued to their tv
No one was expecting me
They opened up and let me in
This mangy, motely American
I was Looking for my Martin guitar
Friendly eyes, friendly vibes
I met along the way
For all the times that my country's fallen short
I was proud that day
The first house a young family shared a bottle of Metaxa
That moon walk space mans dignity
Just seems to have rained down on me
A drink or so, I let them know
I took no credit for the glory
I was just looking for my Martin Guitar
At each house I was honored with
Another bottle of Metaxa
As I stumbled from door to door
I forgot what I came there for
In that hazy, happy towns embrace
I took full credit for the trip in space
I gave up on my Martin Guitar
Friendly eyes, friendly vibes
I met along the way
For all the times that my country's fallen short
I was proud that day
Twenty July 69, Houston is Calling
I was looking for my Martin Guitar
Woodstock was coming soon Armstrong walking on the moon
I was walking near and far
Looking for my lost guitar
On a hot Crete afternoon
At small Greek farms and local bars
I followed every lead I could
People glued to their tv
No one was expecting me
They opened up and let me in
This mangy, motely American
I was Looking for my Martin guitar
Friendly eyes, friendly vibes
I met along the way
For all the times that my country's fallen short
I was proud that day
The first house a young family shared a bottle of Metaxa
That moon walk space mans dignity
Just seems to have rained down on me
A drink or so, I let them know
I took no credit for the glory
I was just looking for my Martin Guitar
At each house I was honored with
Another bottle of Metaxa
As I stumbled from door to door
I forgot what I came there for
In that hazy, happy towns embrace
I took full credit for the trip in space
I gave up on my Martin Guitar
Friendly eyes, friendly vibes
I met along the way
For all the times that my country's fallen short
I was proud that day
Twenty July 69, Houston is Calling
I was looking for my Martin Guitar
Credits
Writer(s): Gerry Segal
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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