The ballad of Curtis Loew

Well I used to wake the mornin'before the rooster crowed Searchin for soda bottles to get myself some dough Brung em down to the corner, down to the country store Cash em in and give my money to a man named Curtis Lowe Ol'Curt was a black man with white curly hair When he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care He used to own an old dobro used to play it 'cross his knee I'd give Ol'Curt my money, he'd play all day for me Play me a song, Curtis Lowe, hey Curtis Lowe I got your drinkin'money, tune up your dobro People said you was useless but 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 Mama used to whoop me but I'd go see him again I'd clap my hands, stomp my feets tryin'to stay in time He'd play me song or two then take another drink of wine Play me a song, Curtis Lowe, hey Curtis Lowe I got your drinkin'money, tune up your dobro People said you was useless but them people all were fools Cause Curtis Lowe was the finest picker to ever play the blues On the day Ol'Curtis died nobody came to pray Old preacher said some words and they chucked him in the clay He lived a lifetime playin'the black man's blues And on the day he lost his life that's all he had to lose Play me a song Curtis Lowe, hey Curtis Lowe I wish that you was here so everyone would know People said you was useless but them people all were fools Cause Curtis, you're the finest picker to ever play the blues