Well, I quit my job down at the car wash,
Left my mama a goodbye note,
By sundown I'd left Kingston,
With my guitar under my coat,
Got a room at the YMCA,
For the next three weeks I went huntin' them nights,
Just lookin' for a place to play,
I hitchhiked all the way down to Memphis,
Well, I thought my pickin' would set 'em on fire,
But nobody wanted to hire a guitar man.
Well, I nearly 'bout starved to death down in Memphis,
So I bought me a ride down to Macon, Georgia, On a overloaded poultry truck,
I run outta money and luck,
Started pickin' out some o' them all night bars,
I thumbed on down to Panama City,
I got the same old story at them all night piers,
Hopin' I could make myself a dollar,
Makin' music on my guitar,
There ain't no room around here for a guitar man
We don't need a guitar man, son Roamed a thousand miles of track,
So I slept in the hobo jungles,
Till I found myself in Mobile Alabama,
At a club they call Big Jack's,
A little fourSo I took my guitar and I sat in,
With a swingin' little guitar man.
I showed 'em what a band would sound like,
Show 'em, son Find yourself down around Mobile,
Make it on out to a club called Jack's,
If you got a little time to kill,
If you ever take a trip down to the ocean,
Just follow that crowd of people,
You'll wind up out on his dance floor,
Well, wouldn't ya know, it's that swingin' little guitar manDiggin' the finest little fiveUp and down the Gulf of Mexico,
Guess who's leadin' that five-piece band.
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