Dust On The Flat Top

DUST ON THE FLAT TOP

Now there's Dust On The Flat Top, Rust On The Strings
But If you listen really close, You still can hear it ring

The Old Man was the finest, the best I'd ever seen
There was magic in his fingers when he laid them on the strings
I used to sit and listen and how the time would fly
I remember when he taught me, “Ghost Riders In The Sky”

Those songs about salvation put a smile on his face
And I couldn't help but join in when he played “Amazing Grace”
(How Sweet The Sound)
Music made him happy and I often heard him say
Just let my hand be on the fretboard, Lord, When you call me away

Now there's Dust On The Flat Top, Rust On The Strings
But if you listen really close you still can hear it ring
He's playing up in Heaven and even though he's gone
As long as there is music his memory will live on