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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