(Kelly Garrett/Craig Wiseman)
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I was in a band, we were scheduled to appear
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At a little roadhouse called the Get Down Here
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A cinder block building with a hand-painted sign
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Hunkered down straddling the county lines
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When the crowd rolled in they were a motley mix
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There were truckers and bikers and locals from the sticks
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Each one meaner than a cougar in a cage
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And the biggest one swaggered right up to the stage
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He said, ¡°We¡¯ve heard everybody from David Allen Coe
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To Chuck Berry singing ¡®go Johnny go go
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Got an autographed picture of Elvis on the shelf
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So tell me girl what you got to say for yourself
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I let the guitar do the talkin¡¯, and the whole place started rockin¡¯
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My fingertips weren¡¯t stoppin¡¯ and that big dude started boppin¡¯
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No need to fuss, stop the squalkin¡¯, just let the guitar do the talkin¡¯
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Now he was over in the corner with a chesire smile
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The best lookin¡¯ seventeen miles
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Sittin¡¯ there makin¡¯ my poor heart sweet
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I knew my chances were a long shot bet
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Because a boy like that he¡¯s heard every line
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And I¡¯ve never been the silver-tongue kind
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But I figured I had me one chance
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Of gettin¡¯ that boy to dance
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So I cranked up my amp...
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I let the guitar do the talkin¡¯, and the whole place started rockin¡¯
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My fingertips weren¡¯t stoppin¡¯ and that big dude started boppin¡¯
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No need to fuss, stop the squalkin¡¯, just let the guitar do the talkin¡¯
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In a world of too many words
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Sometimes your point is hard to get heard
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I think I figured out a little way of getting mine through
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I just put it on, tune it up and the whole place started rockin¡¯
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My fingertips weren¡¯t stoppin¡¯ and that big dude started boppin¡¯
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No need to fuss, stop the squalkin¡¯, just let the guitar do the talkin¡¯
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Let the Guitar Do The Talkin'
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| Anita Cochran |
