George Strait - The Real Thing lyrics

I was on a bus coming back to us From Atlanta in '53 And I picked up a Rhythm & Blues magazine Laying underneath my seat And I found out the stuff they'd been playing us Wasn't made from grits and bone And it would take more than the Crew Cuts And Pat Boone to take me home [Chorus] I want the real thing Give me the real thing Make it loud I'll make you proud Or the songs they'd sing I don't want you under my roof with your 86 proof Watered down till it tastes like tea You're gonna pull my string Make it the real thing I remember old Elvis when he forgot To remember to forget And when young Johnny Cash hadn't seen this side of Big River yet And old Luther and Lewis and Perkins was picking And playing them songs for me [Chorus]