The Ballad of Curtis Loew

Well, I used to wake the mornin' Before the rooster crowed Searchin' for soda bottles To get myself some dough Brought 'em down to the corner Down to the 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 fifth of wine He did not have a care He used to own an old Dobro Used to 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 Well, 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 He looked to be sixty And maybe I was ten Mama used to whoop me But I'd go see him again I'd clap my hands, stomp my feet Try to stay in time He'd play me a song or two Then take another drink of wine Play me a song Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew Well, 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 Yes, sir On the day old Curtis died Nobody came to pray Ol' preacher said some words And they chunked him in the clay Well, he lived a lifetime Playin' the black man's blues And on the day he lost his life That's all he had to lose Play me a song Curtis Loew, hey Curtis Loew I wish that you was here so Everyone would know People said he was useless Them people all were fools 'Cause Curtis you're the finest picker To ever play the blues