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

With a swinging little guitarman



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 Jacks

If you got a little time to kill

Just follow that crowd of people

You'll wind up out on his dance floor

Digging the finest little five piece group

Up and down the Gulf of Mexico

Guess who's leading that five piece band

Wouldn't you know it's that swinging little guitarman