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Well I quit my job down at the carwash |
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Left my mother a goodbye note |
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By sundown |
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I left Kingston with my guitar under my coat |
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Hitchiked all the way down to |
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Memphis Got a room at the |
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YMCA For the next three weeks went hunting at nights |
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Just looking for a place to play |
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Well I thought my picking would set them on fire |
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But nobody wanted to hire a guitarman |
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Well I nearly starved to death down in |
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Memphis I run out of money and luck |
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So I bummed me a ride down to |
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Mecon, Georgia |
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On an overloaded poultry truck |
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Thumbed on down to |
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Panama City |
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Started picking at some of them all night bars |
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Hoping I could make myself a dollar making music on my guitar |
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Got the same old story the moment |
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I'd appear |
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There ain't room around here for a guitarman |
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Don't need a guitarman son |
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So I slept in the hobo jungles |
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I roamed thousand miles of track |
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Till I find myself in |
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Mobile, Alabama |
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At a club they call |
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Big Jacks |
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A little four piece band was jamming |
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So I took my guitar and |
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I sat in I showed em what a band would sound like |
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With a swinging little guitarman |
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Show em son |
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If you ever take a trip down to the ocean |
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Find yourself down around |
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Mobile Make it on out to a club called |
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Jacks If you got a little time to kill |
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Just follow that crowd of people |
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You'll wind up out on his dance floor |
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Digging the finest little five piece group |
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Up and down the |
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Gulf of Mexico |
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Guess who's leading that five piece band |
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Wouldn't you know it's that swinging little guitarman "he was a degenerates degenerate" |
