Guitar Man

Album: Clambake (1967)
Charted: 28
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  • 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
    I hitchhiked all the way down to Memphis
    Got a room at the YMCA
    For the next three weeks I went huntin' them nights
    Just lookin' for a place to play
    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
    I run outta money and luck
    So I bought me a ride down to Macon, Georgia
    On a overloaded poultry truck
    I thumbed on down to Panama City
    Started pickin' out some o' them all night bars
    Hopin' I could make myself a dollar
    Makin' music on my guitar
    I got the same old story at them all night piers
    There ain't no room around here for a guitar man
    We don't need a guitar man, son

    So I slept in the hobo jungles
    Roamed a thousand miles of track
    Till I found myself in Mobile Alabama
    At a club they call Big Jack's
    A little four-piece band was jammin'
    So I took my guitar and I sat in
    I showed 'em what a band would sound like
    With a swingin' little guitar man
    Show 'em, son

    If you ever take a trip down to the ocean
    Find yourself down around Mobile
    Make it on out to a club called Jack's
    If you got a little time to kill
    Just follow that crowd of people
    You'll wind up out on his dance floor
    Diggin' the finest little five piece group
    Up and down the Gulf of Mexico
    Guess who's leadin' that five-piece band
    Well, wouldn't ya know, it's that swingin' little guitar man, yeah yeah Writer/s: Jerry Reed Hubbard
    Publisher: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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