And she walked in the street with her guitar on the elbow
When she stopped at the bar and asked if she could sing her sorrow Only were men staring at her with their pints But suddenly only she was in their minds
A folk guitar, for the girl in a bar A folk song, for the man who is wrong A folk guitar, to sing her despair A folk song, to tell him to run along to run along
And the man who was wrong wasnât in that pub While she sang to give her soul a good scrub Only were men who once had been cheating But not the one who had been breaking... her heart
A folk guitar, for the girl in a bar
A folk song, for the man who is wrong A folk guitar, to sing her despair A folk song, to tell him to run along to run along
And anyway, she wishes he could hear Wherever she played he would never be here Only were men who had done the same But it would not take away her blame
A folk guitar, for the girl in a bar A folk song, for the man who is wrong A folk guitar, to sing her despair A folk song, to tell him to run along to run along
At least it would appease her misery If only he could see
At least he would regret his choice If she could prove it with her voice