I was three days short of
pulling out of
Kingsport, I was headed down to
Houston town.
Had my guitar packed in a burlap sack
for exploiting my country sound.
I bypassed
Jackson, bypassed
Memphis
By the time I got to
Arkansas
I'd have sold my car and that black guitar
For anything cool and tall
So I pulled up to a neon sign
On
Highway 49
Shut the en gine down,
took a look around
Then I stepped inside
I asked that bouncer where I was
He said, son, you're at
Bill's
Honky -tonk pickin',
line dance kickin'
Razorback stickin',
barbecue chicken
Laundromat bar and grill
Well, I found old
Bill sittin' at the bar
With a pistol and a change machine
He was goin' out of quarters
to a waitress named
Star
When I asked him if I could sing
He said, son,
go ahead if you brought your guitar
Then he pointed to the backstage door
He said, we don't like
original material
Unless it's been done before
Well, I hit the stage like a big mill train
Told the houseman to play and sing
I sang the
Tennessee
Waltz,
Kentucky
Rain, and the one about the 33
The lead guitar was like a chainsaw,
that bit like a power drill
The
Beatles, honky -tonk picking,
line dance kicking
Razorback sticking, barbecue chicken,
laundromat, bar and grill
In the ten short minutes I
was up on stage
Watched a biker punch a cowboy's face
And with a perfect view I was witness to
The destruction of the whole dang place
It was long -necked stems and
white -fringed hems
Flying out of that dark saloon
And that mechanical pull was reduced in
full to the safest place in the room
And that punch -drunk cowboy showed his
wife that his shirt was soaked in beer
She said, calm down honey, have another life,
cause we can wash your shirt right here
Then the whole place stopped to thank
me for booking my short bill