I was on a bus coming back to us from Atlanta on 53
And I picked up a rhythm and blues magazine laying underneath my seat
And I found out the stuff they been playin us wasn?t made from grits and bones
and it would take more then the crew cuts, and Pat Boone to take me home
(chorus:)
I want the real thing, give me the real thing
Make it loud, make you proud of the songs they sing
I don?t want you under my roof with your 86 proof
watered down till it tastes like tea
your gonna pull my string make it the real thing for me
I remember old Elvis, when he forgot to remember to forget
your gonna pull my string make it the real thing for me