All the places... Oh, I remember... On the living room couch, for so many hours, Playing along with the stereo, chasing a sound. Or sometimes I'd make up a tune of my own, Sometimes just strumming, just playin around. Lying in bed when I should have been sleeping, Stuck in my head trying to work out the right feeling. Sometimes to unwind, sometimes to get by, Sometimes for the girl right there by my side. No set list, no stage, No spotlight shining in my face. Just six strings, a little time, And whatever melody came to mind. I remember all the places I played my guitar, From my living room or when home was so far. Many times outside under a starry sky, A song in the air and the world drifting by. Sometimes for the fun, sometimes to clear my head, Sometimes matching chords where my lyrics had led. Wherever I was, it was never that far, I remember all the places I played my guitar. Downstairs in a den to meet with some friends, A room full of guitars the sounds we would blend. In a driveway or parking lot, late in the night, Out of the trunk, under a nearby light. In the hotel rooms all across this land, Just me and my guitar, a weekend to spend. And once or twice, not expecting a knock, I'd play for the maid cuz I didn't want to stop. Then there were nights the guys would come round, I'd lay down a rhythm, they'd make their own sound. No need for rehearsal, when we would jam, We'd pick it up and play some great music man. I remember all the places I played my guitar, From my living room or when home was so far. Many times outside under a late-night sky, With a song in the air and the world drifting by. Sometimes for the fun, sometimes to clear my head, Sometimes matching chords where my lyrics had led. Wherever I was, it was never that far, I remember all the places I played my guitar. On a beach by the waves, or a campsite fire, A cabin porch in the woods, playing till we were tired. The night would set in, the stars would shine and twinkle, And the music filled the air, so soft and so simple. And when it hit just right, I'd never want it to end, One song into another, then around again. Lost in the magic, caught up in the mood, Not thinking what’s next when I found my groove. That old black case with the red felt lining, Scratched up and worn from handlers bad timing. Through airport baggage, flights across the country, Every place added a new page to the story. No stacked-up amps, no spotlights above, No need for a crowd, no need for applause. When the music comes easy, it feels meant for me, Through my guitar, a moment, to a sweet melody. Sometimes alone... Sometimes with friends... Sometimes the song seemed it would not end... Sometimes to laugh... Sometimes to unwind... Sometimes just to leave the whole world behind... I remember all the places I played my guitar, Every little room, every mile, every car. From the back of my trunk at a party in the park, Everywhere filled another place in my heart. Sometimes for the fun, sometimes to clear my head, Sometimes matching chords where my lyrics had led. Wherever I was, it was never that far, I remember all the places I played my guitar. Oh, all the places, Oh, all the places, I remember... Playin that old guitar.
