(Verse 1)
Out on the edge of a dusty old plain,
Where the winds hum a tune and the skies bring the rain,
There’s a women with a craft, both simple and grand,
Building guitars with her rough, steady hands.
She’s got a Newfie lying close by her feet,
Big as a bear and gentle as sweet.
Together they roam, this ranch they call home,
Where the heart of the music was born to be grown.
(Chorus)
With a chisel and a plane, and a soul full of songs,
She carves out the stories where the wood belongs.
On a ranch in the hills, 'neath the wide Blue sky,
She builds dreams in the shape of a six-stringed life.
(Verse 2)
The mahogany glows in the warm evening light,
She hums an old tune as the sun says goodnight.
Her dog wags its tail to the rhythm she keeps,
While the crickets join in from the shadows so deep.
Each fret holds a story, each string knows her pain,
The joy and the sorrow flow like summer rain.
She builds every piece with a heart full of pride,
For the songs yet unwritten, waiting inside.
(Chorus)
With a chisel and a plane, and a soul full of songs,
She carves out the stories where the wood belongs.
On a ranch in the hills, 'neath the wide blue sky,
She builds dreams in the shape of a six-stringed life.
(Bridge)
And when the day is done, she’ll strum what she’s made,
Under the stars where memories fade.
With his dog by his side, and the night rolling in,
The music begins where the silence ends.
(Chorus)
With a chisel and a plane, and a soul full of songs,
She carves out the stories where the wood belongs.
On a ranch in the hills, 'neath the wide blue sky,
She builds dreams in the shape of a six-stringed life.
(Outro)
So here’s to the luthier, quiet and true,
With a heart full of passion for the work they’ll do.
In the hum of the wind, their legacy stays,
In the guitars that will sing for the rest of our days, and life's.
