Tom: C
Introdução:
C#7
Well I quit my job down at the car wash
I left my momma a goodbye note
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I hitch-hiked all the way down to Memphis
Got a room at the Y.M.C.A.
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For the next three weeks I went a hauntin’ them night clubs
Lookin’ for a place a play
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Well I thought my pickin’ would set 'em on fire
F#7(hºld) C#7
But nobody wanted to hire a guitar man
G – 9s10 10 10 10 – 9 9 6 6
C#7
Well I nearly 'bout starved to death down in Memphis
I run outta money and luck
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I thumbed on down to Panama City
Started pickin’ out some of them all-night bars
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Hopin’ I could make myself a dollar
Makin’ music on my guitar
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I got the same old story at them all night piers
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There ain’t no room around here for a guitar man
*spoken * We don’t need no guitar man, son
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So I slept in the hobo jungles
I bummed a thousand miles of track
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Til I found myself in Mobile, Alabama
In a club they call “Big Jack’s”
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A little four piece band was jammin’
So I took my guitar and I sat in
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I showed 'em what a band would sound like
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with a swingin’ little guitar man
*spoken * Show 'em son
C#7
So if you ever take a trip down to the ocean
Find yourself down around Mobile
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Just follow that crowd of people
You’ll wind up out on his dance floor
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Diggin’ the finest little five piece group
Up and down the Gulf of Mexico
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And guess who’s leadin’ that five piece band
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Wouldn’t you know it’s that swingin’ little guitar man
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Yeah Yeah guitarman