Alley: Guitar Man [Completed Take (My Boy, My Boy.)]

Well, I quit my job down at the car wash I 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 And 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 I 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 Wouldn't ya know It's that swingin' little guitar man Yeah, yeah