A small room above a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.
The song on my guitar today is "When First Unto This Country", about an immigrant who visits his girlfriend on horseback, only to one day "spy" a finer horse, which he steals. Unfortunately the horse belongs to a military captain, and this magnifies his crime. The immigrant is sent to prison, where he continues to visit his girlfriend -- in mind only.
I have heard many versions of this song over the years, but the one I like best is from the early 1960s and belongs to the New Lost City Ramblers. Guitar, banjo, and that saddest of old time instruments, the autoharp.