Between Gruhn’s and Bailey’s there used to be a man
Hailed from Pennsylvania played the mandolin
For 16 years Mike crooned his tears and taught me how to stand
For the cause of living art that made the Opry grand

Once there was a hobo played the silverware
On the spot of Third and Broad tattooed everywhere
Kids would beg their parents for nickels they could spare
Abby took the last train out with flowers in her hair

Chorus:
Now I see it’s divine to be let down
It’s past my time I’ll never wear the crown
Deep inside I was sure I heard the sounds
I still cry each time I go downtown

Cowboy was my father at least he claimed to be
He drank some wine and cut in line and danced in front of me
Life got hard and he caught a charge no poor man could beat
Thank the Lord the streets are safe for yanks to drink and scream

At age 13 I learned from these I spoke of in this song
On lower Broad in Nashville I watched it all go wrong
It’s been said the musics dead I’d just say it gone
Gone to hell and gone to jail and gone back to the farm
Chorus:
Now I see it’s divine to be let down
It’s past my time I’ll never wear the crown
Deep inside I was sure I heard the sounds
I still cry each time I go downtown