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Lyrics:
He worked from morning to 10 at night, sometimes 3 A.M Fixing guitars for a living, honing and polishing frets Perfecting the intonation and setting the action good Carving saddles from ox bone, bridges from Brazilian wood
He fixed my old Gibson L-00 He reset the neck, used a patch of Bondo Near the soundhole where the wood worn away From 80 years of age and hard play
Sometimes he'd leave without warning and just close up shop No sign, no message, no call, no nothing, he'd just stop Coming to work and picking up the telephone I left more than a few messages for him after the tone
All summer he wouldn't return my calls 'Hey, Richard, I'd like my guitar back by fall Got a record to make and a promise to bring The tour in England, a smile to feign.' September or maybe October he called and said it was done I got in the taxi, got my guitar and man that thing sung Like a choir of angels and the neck it felt great And that was the last time I saw him, late 2008 Why Richard Collopy, why Richard, why? Did you have to go off with the birds in the sky You were the best guitar guy out west I cherished your work and wish you the best
Why Richard Collopy, why oh why? Did you have to lie down and close your eyes? Close down your shop and not say goodbye I'll own this guitar for the rest of my life I'll play this guitar for the rest of my life
Why Richard Collopy, why Richard, why? Why Richard Collopy, why Richard, why? Why Richard Collopy, why Richard, why? Why Richard Collopy, why Richard, why?
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