Guitarman

Well I quit my job down at the carwash Left my mother a goodbye note By sundown I left Kingston with my guitar under my coat Hitchiked all the way down to Memphis Got a room at the YMCA For the next three weeks went hunting at nights Just looking for a place to play Well I thought my picking would set them on fire But nobody wanted to hire a guitarman Well I nearly starved to death down in Memphis I run out of money and luck So I bummed me a ride down to Mecon, Georgia On an overloaded poultry truck Thumbed on down to Panama City Started picking at some of them all night bars Hoping I could make myself a dollar making music on my guitar Got the same old story the moment I'd appear There ain't room around here for a guitarman Don't need a guitarman son So I slept in the hobo jungles I roamed thousand miles of track Till I find myself in Mobile, Alabama At a club they call Big Jacks A little four piece band was jamming So I took my guitar and I sat in I showed em what a band would sound like