Woodworker's Hand

With his hands in the wood

And his eyes on the grain

He carves the lines good

And he works through the pain

And he'd never complain

And I play this guitar

With the subtle refrain

In the smoky old bar

For the people in pain

And I'd never complain

CHORUS:

And sometimes the night and the melodies collide

With the wrongs and the right

The truth and the lies

And this old guitar

It sings through the band

And it rings through the dark

Thanks to the touch

Of the woodworker's hand

So I sit down to write

Guitar in my hand

By the warm fire's light

With the boys in the band

And our melody's grand

And he sits down to carve

Mahogany sides

Of another guitar

That will ring through the night

And he makes it just right

CHORUS

It rings through the dark

Thanks to the touch

Of the woodworker's hand