Lyrics:

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