The Ballad of Curtis Loew

Well I used to wake the mornin', 'fore the rooster crowed Searchin' for soda bottles to get myself some dough Take 'em down to the corner, down to that country store Cash 'em in and give my money to a man named Curtis Loew Old curt was a black man with white curly hair When he had a little of wine, no he did not have a care He used to own and old Dobro, he'd play it 'cross his knee I'd give old Curt my money, he'd play all day for me Play me a song Curtis Loew Curtis Loew I got your drinkin' money, tune up your Dobro People said he was useless, them people all were fools 'Cause Curtis Loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues Well he looked to be 60, maybe I was 10 Yeah my mama used to whoop me but I'd go see him again Clap my hands, stomp my feet, and I'd try to keep in time He'd play me a song or two and then take another drink of the muscadine wine Play me a song Curtis Loew Curtis Loew I got your drinkin' money, tune up your Dobro People said he was useless, but them people all were fools 'Cause Curtis Loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues On the day old Curtis died nobody came to pray Old preacher just said some words, and they chucked him in that clay Well he lived a lifetime of playin' that black man's blues And on the day he lost his life, well that's all he had to lose Play me a song Curtis Loew Curtis Loew Well I got your drinkin' money, tune up your Dobro People said he was useless, but them people all were fools 'Cause Curtis Loew you're the finest picker to ever play the blues