Eric Church - The Ballad of Curtis Loew lyrics
[Eric Church - The Ballad of Curtis Loew lyrics]
'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