Senior Citizen Star

(Tom T. Hall)



On the floor of the limo there's a bottle of whiskey

A white Stetson hat with a fine feather band

His face covered up with the two day old paper

He's a songwriter legend that grey haired old man.



They don't say much to him he don't say much to them

They wonder what goes on inside his old head

Sometimes when they shake him trying to wake him

He comes round so slowly they think that he's dead.



And you're not allowed to talk about Denver, Colorado

You're not allowed to talk about his first wife Joanne

You're not allowed to talk about his first fiddle player

Or anybody who ever worked in Elvis's band.



He motions the driver to get him some coffee

He sits there and sips it his eyes on the floor

When he's readin' his paper he sometimes looks angry

He's still trying to figure out the Second World War.



He mentions Chicago the Opry and Wheeling

His awards are all stacked in the box in his barn

He made millions of dollars with a hoop and a holler

Now he lives in a trailer on a five acre farm.



And you're not allowed to talk about Denver, Colorado

You're not allowed to talk about his first wife Joanne

You're not allowed to talk about his first fiddle player

Or anybody who ever worked in Elvis's band.



As the limo rolls on down the America's highways

Just frames to the sign on the side of his car

It says pickin' and singin' for any occasion

The songwritin' senior citizen star...