Lynard Skynard The Ballad of Curtis Lowe Lyrics

Well I used to wake the mornin'
Before the rooster crowed
Searchin' for soda bottles to get my self some dough
Brought 'em down to the corner
Down to the country store
Cash 'em in & give my money to a man named Curtis Lowe
Old Curt was a black man with white curly hair
When he had a fifth of wine he didn't have a care
He used to own an old dobro used to play across his knee
I'd give old Curt my money he play all day for me
(Chorus)
Play me a song Curtis Lowe Curtis Lowe
Well I got your drinkin' money tune up your dobro
People said he was useless, them people all were fools
'Cause Curtis Lowe was the finest picker to ever play the blues

He looked to be 60 maybe I was 10
Momma used to whoop me
But I'd go see him again
I'd clap my hands, stomp my feet tryin' to stay in time
Well he'd play me a song or 2 then take another drink of wine
(Chorus)
Play me a song Curtis Lowe Curtis Lowe
Well I got your drinkin' money tune up your dobro
People said he was useless, but them people all were fools
'Cause Curtis Lowe was the finest picker to ever play the blues

On the day old Curtis died nobody came to pray
Old preacher said some words
They chucked him in the clay
Well he lived a lifetime playin' the black mans blues
& on the day he lost his life thats all he had to lose
(Chorus)
Play me a song Curtis Lowe Curtis Lowe
I wish that you was here so everyone would know
People said he was useless, but them people all were fools
'Cause Curtis your finest picker to ever play the blues