Countless cups of coffee,
A string of lonesome towns,
Like a Ferris wheel, yeah,
I've been around.
There's been a lot of changes,
There ain't that much the same,
Except Acuff's still the king
And Kitty Wells is still the queen,
And I still love to read
Country Music Magazine.
So you made it to twenty,
I'll bet sometimes
That it's been week to week,
But, hell, when I was twenty,
They should have kept me off the streets.
By now I'd say you're tried and true,
You've stood the test of time,
And when you turn twenty-one,
You can count on me to buy the wine.
And where else in Connecticut
Can you call up on the phone,
And when they put you on hold to talk to Russ,
You get to hear George Jones.
You write about Garth, Dwight
And a bunch of us
To-be-determined legends of hype and flash,
But praise the Lord for a book
That never forgets to report on Johnny Cash.
Nudie suits, honky tonks, telecasters,
Oh, and let's not forget about Ralph Mooney's steel,
Hillbillies are the future,
That's the way I feel.
When it's said and done,
Done and said,
Well, exactly what I mean
Is that you can say you've finally arrived
When you're on the cover of Country Music Magazine.
Congratulations, continued success and sign me up for another year.
Poem written by Marty Stuart
Westbury, New York
June 25, 1992
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