Written and recorded by Jan M. in a 50 degree cold as hell travel travel trailer on a blustery day in New Mexico

Used to sleep on busted couches
Beer soaked set lists in my hand
Threw my heart at every weekend
Till it was time to load the van

Posters peeling in the back rooms
Sticky floors and empty cans
Whole crowd singing every chorus
Louder than the band

It’s not my last encore
Doesn’t ring like it did before
Can’t hit those high notes I was made for
So I tune my guitar down low

It’s not my last Encore,
I’m not quite finished yet
Maybe I’ll hang around a little longer
and play just one more set

Now the stage is where ever I make it
Mostly in my back bedroom
Writing songs about the old times
Trying hard to stay in tune

Maybe I should take it easy
Maybe it’s just not my time

But my fingers still remember
Every climb, Every Dive

It’s not my last encore
Doesn’t ring like it did before
Can’t hit those high notes I was made for
So I tune my guitar down low

It’s not my last Encore,
I’m not quite finished yet
Maybe I’ll hang around a little longer
and play just one more set

Lonely highways endless drives
Cheap motel dreams and buzzin’ signs

All that’s left are faded photos
From younger days and reckless times

Now the crowd is just a handful
and my throat is running dry
I lean into rough every note
and I finally feel alive

It’s not my last encore
Doesn’t ring like it did before
Can’t hit those high notes I was made for
So I tune my guitar down low

It’s not my last Encore,
I’m not quite finished yet
Maybe I’ll hang around a little longer
and play just one more set

oooohhhhhhh