The Man with the Golden Thumb

Lyrics

[Verse 1] He was sitting out on his front porch pickin′ when I snuck up behind his shack He was playin' that ol′ beat-up guitar of his to a dog that he called Jack Now my daddy used to tell me boy, don't go wanderin' round his place Why that man could be Satan′s right arm, he′s got evil in his face But boy, he'd make that ol′ beat-up guitar sound like it cost a hundred dollar bill Even though he'd lost four of his fingers workin′ in a back woods sawmill I used to stand there in the darkness and I'd listen while he played And until this very day I can still recall every lick he ever made [Chorus] Well hе played punk and Blues, folk and Rock He didn′t know thеy had a name But he could ring them strings, make em sing He was way ahead of the game He took his thumb and he'd slap it numb and say "Jack, here's how it′s done So just lay back and listen boy To the man with the golden thumb" [Verse 2] One night I finally got up my nerve, and I walked up to that old man And them cold black eyes stared down at me and my feet kinda shuffled in the sand He said, "Hey, what′s a kid like you doin' hangin′ round an old man like me?" I said, "Mister, I just love your playin'"; he said, "Well, then pull up and have a seat!" Well I spent a lot of time in his cabin, just him and that old dog, and me And, folks, it was there that I heard the best guitar in the state of Tennessee And you know, to my eyes, it was a miracle just to see the way it was done The good Lord made him born blind but He gave him a golden thumb I spent a many nights at his cabin, and he taught me everything I know [Verse 3] He said "Son, we oughta take your banjo and my guitar and hit the road" So, we went down to Dallas and we killed ′em, did the same thing in New Orleans We raised the roof in ol' Saint Lou and I can still hear the people scream [Bridge] I can feel him in my fingers, you can hear him every time I strum Heard a whole lot of pickers but they can′t hold a candle to the man with the golden thumb [Chorus] He played punk and Blues, folk and Rock, he didn't know they had a name But he could ring them strings, make em sing, he was way ahead of the game He'd take his thumb and slap it numb and say "Boy, here′s how it′s done If you take note you might learn to play like the man with the golden thumb"