The Brian Setzer Orchestra - Guitar Slinger lyrics

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The Brian Setzer Orchestra - Guitar Slinger lyrics

They kicked us out for playing too loud I carried my amp out through the crowd Some chick took a beer and threw it in my face But I kept right on walking Outside it was warm There was a good crowd on the strip We set our stuff down and had a smoke Like we was waiting for a ride And all the while I was thinking You gotta keep moving in a mean, mean town It's better going nowhere than just standing around By tomorrow morning I'll be leaving town I'll go any place but I ain't going down Now I called Shorty and Lefty There was a ba**man called Beans So we split to nail a rumor About some work in New Orleans A twenty fed the tank Two bucks fed the band Maybe we could make it Down in jambalaya band In a Meade Lux Lewis bar That's where we found the job Knocking tinpan out for tips Mostly from the mob Said okay we'll take it When they're drunk, we'll play the blues We'll get some shirts from the islands And some Cuban rock 'n' roll shoes And all the while I was thinking You gotta keep moving in a mean, mean town It's better going nowhere than just standing around By tomorrow morning I'll be leaving town I'll go anyplace but I ain't going down But when we played the lost highway A juice head said, we was hicks And the whole bar began to beat us With pool half sticks They got the radio out of the car They must have used a bomb But when we piled in and gunned her She still sang the sweetest sung Lefty woke among the bottles Said North he could not come We left him on can*l street Trading in his drums I saw Elvis hitchhiking Out on the interstate And Beans was getting paranoid About our California plates And all the while I was thinking You gotta keep moving in a mean mean town It's better going nowhere than just standing around By tomorrow morning I'll be leaving town I'll go anyplace but I ain't going down A cruiser pulled us over Right across the line Booked us in as vagrants In holding tank number nine You learn how to flat pick When you're looking at a forty four You do the orange blossom special Till the peel falls on the floor The ba**man had a bust From back home in a raid So it was just me and Shorty Standing on main parade We liquidized our a**ets In a bar and did not talk Then we hopped a non stop greyhound To the big bad beauty of New York I woke up on twenty third street As he backed into the slot I saw that me and Shorty Had been robbed of what we got Then a guy said through the window This is the end of the line I said, brother, I'm a guitar slinger And this is just doing fine