My favorite pick has disappeared
I’m afraid it's long gone
I can't strum or pick a note
Can't sing my country songs
 
I think my wife took and hid it
She's known for such mean things
Once in tizzy 'bout beer cans
She cut my brand-new strings
 
She hates my sweet little guitar
It’s perfect on my lap
It makes me very happy
I give it soft love taps
 
It comforts me during the day
After a beer or two
I'll mow the lawn tomorrow
I've got singing to do
 
And if the vibe starts flowing hot
With a swig of Jim Beam
I'll call Joe and Hank and Bob
We’re a country team
 
This lonely world is just waiting
To hear our melodies
If my wife would quit nagging
We’d be on tv 
 
But none of that will happen soon
Without my favorite pick
I’ll just sit here on the porch
And take another sip
 
I’m not taking down Christmas lights
It’s almost here again
I just want my favorite pick
To sing to you my friend