Her is Cherry. We've just met, But already she knows me better than you. understands me, after 18 years, But you still don't see me like you ought to do. Maybe we could bout things if You was made of wood and strings. While I love her every I don't know how to turn you down, And you're so thick and my pages are thin, So I got me a best friend With a pick-up that puts you to shame, Cherry is her name. when I'm lonely Cherry's there And she plays along while I sing out my I could be crying, And you don't care You won't call me back, stubborn as a mule. May-be we could talk bout things if You was made of wood and strings. You might think Gone too far I'm talking bout My new guitar.