Oh, i remember Zimmy
Quiet, anxious, and young
But you never could believe a single damn word
That fell from Zimmy’s tongue
He’d play that beat-up guitar of his
Everyday in Maggie’s barn
Singin’ about some jilted maiden
Or spinnin’ some great yarn
he wasn’t much of a musician
he didn’t have much of a voice
but when he cranked out those crazy stories,
Zimmy really made some noise!
They say he packed his few possessions
And put his thumb out on the road
He disappeared from our small town
Headed out east, i’m told
None of us have heard from him since
Most of us doubt we will
As i walk by Old Maggie’s homestead
I think of Zimmy still...
Saw Zimmy’s New York face
On the cover of some hot shot magazine
Said he wrote a far-out song
About a man who played the tambourine
Said he wrote a far-out song
About a man who played the tambourine