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
Alley: Guitar Man (My Boy, My Boy.)) Lyrics performed by Elvis Presley are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Alley: Guitar Man (My Boy, My Boy.)) Lyrics performed by Elvis Presley is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD