Tribute to my smilindog swamp witch guitar.Lucky Fishing HoleGot up before the rooster called meBefore freight train started backDug my crawlers the night beforeLike a good county boy before he headed out the doorI feel the cold mud slap my feetAlong the path I have to goA secret pass down generationsCalled the lucky fishing holeSmell the sweet Spanish mossMagic vapor of the emerald swampEyes are watching every step I takeListen for any stick that would breakHouse lights flickering through the woodSmell of something cooking goodI know a witch whose spell is hotShe’ll turn back time or make it stopThe memoriesOf how it used to beCome to the BayouAnd you will see
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Thanks Uncle John : P
Timed Wolf, I feel lucky with my growling swampdog guitar!
Good song. Dylan meets the blues man meets the Swamp dog.
Lucky fishing dawgeeeeeeeeeeee
Sharp looking Kitty...ooh!
Thanks Nancy Kat!
Thanks Jim!
Now that is some fine Witch!!! She looks amazing and sounds wicked cool!!!! Meeeowwwwww^..^
Good stuff!
Thanks for the kind words everyone, very fun instrument to play.
Swampy goodness there smilingdog1