Album: Anita

Let the Guitar Do The Talkin'

(Kelly Garrett/Craig Wiseman)
I was in a band, we were scheduled to appear
At a little roadhouse called the Get Down Here
A cinder block building with a hand-painted sign
Hunkered down straddling the county lines
When the crowd rolled in they were a motley mix
There were truckers and bikers and locals from the sticks
Each one meaner than a cougar in a cage
And the biggest one swaggered right up to the stage
He said, ¡°We¡¯ve heard everybody from David Allen Coe
To Chuck Berry singing ¡®go Johnny go go
Got an autographed picture of Elvis on the shelf
So tell me girl what you got to say for yourself
I let the guitar do the talkin¡¯, and the whole place started rockin¡¯
My fingertips weren¡¯t stoppin¡¯ and that big dude started boppin¡¯
No need to fuss, stop the squalkin¡¯, just let the guitar do the talkin¡¯
Now he was over in the corner with a chesire smile
The best lookin¡¯ seventeen miles
Sittin¡¯ there makin¡¯ my poor heart sweet
I knew my chances were a long shot bet
Because a boy like that he¡¯s heard every line
And I¡¯ve never been the silver-tongue kind
But I figured I had me one chance
Of gettin¡¯ that boy to dance
So I cranked up my amp...
I let the guitar do the talkin¡¯, and the whole place started rockin¡¯
My fingertips weren¡¯t stoppin¡¯ and that big dude started boppin¡¯
No need to fuss, stop the squalkin¡¯, just let the guitar do the talkin¡¯
In a world of too many words
Sometimes your point is hard to get heard
I think I figured out a little way of getting mine through
I just put it on, tune it up and the whole place started rockin¡¯
My fingertips weren¡¯t stoppin¡¯ and that big dude started boppin¡¯
No need to fuss, stop the squalkin¡¯, just let the guitar do the talkin¡¯