The complete lyrics - all in good time
some = all / the effluxion of time

13 Somebody stole my guitar

(Gillan, Glover, Lord, Morse, Paice). From the Deep Purple album 'Purpendicular'

After a DP show at a venue called Johnnyland, in Corpus Christi, I took ten days driving west to L.A., with my buddy and erstwhile tour manager Al Dutton. We meandered like a lazy river; went and stopped wherever we fancied. One of those places was an old Ghost Town called Calico. I was confused for a while with new thoughts and the idea of getting locked into the saloon overnight with all those famous gunslingers in their frames on the wall staring down at me. Then a band that played in a boot-store window in Nashville came into my head, and other stuff about Mentor Williams who wrote 'Give me the beat (boys?)' and never was there when we turned up to visit him in Taos, New Mexico, and then on some other trip, singing all the way to Memphis with Big Steve Jarrel in his big old Lincoln, and that's where my guitar got stolen. I took some of the ghosts with me when I left Calico; you will too if you ever go there.

Somebody Stole my Guitar


Remind me to tell you
'Bout the old silver miner
Name of Hard Rock Pete
Had his house built on a slope
They say one of his legs
Lived in Calico
There's a rumour going round
That the other lived in hope
So I walked in the room
And I stopped
I turned around
And looked over my shoulder
And a voice close beside me said
You'd better watch your head
The party's over

It wasn't long before
The waitress came over and said
Can I freshen up your drink
And have you heard of these boys
And if you feel inclined
To buy some cowboy boots
Well it's not that bad
We can talk above the noise
So I sucked on my beer
Shut my eyes
And tried to listen to the words
I know I missed the meaning
But the message
Was something I'd already heard

Johnny Ringo's voice
Is getting deeper
And now he's going to put
Another lock on the door
The night is getting later
My head is getting lighter
The mood is getting darker
Tequila's being poured
So I smile
At the old gunslinger
In his frame on the wall
As he pushed back his hat
And it's all coming back
I'd cut a long story short
But it's much too late for that

Somebody stole my guitar
They took it from
The back seat of my car

I was sleeping in Memphis
In my hotel room
And somebody stole my guitar

Return to:
back to the Wordography index