Well, I used to wake the morning before the rooster crowed
Searching for soda bottles to get myself some dough
Run them down to the corner, down to the country store
Cash them in, and give my money to a man named Curtis Loew

Old 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 across his knee
I give old Curt my money, he play all day for me

Play me a song, Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew
Well, I got your drinking money, tune up your Dobro
People said he was useless, them people all were fools
Because Curtis Loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues

He looked to be sixty, and maybe I was ten
Mama used to whoop me, but I'd go see him again
I clap my hands, stomp my feet, try to stay in time
He'd play a song or two, then take another drink of wine

Play me a song, Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew
Well, I got your drinking money, tune up your Dobro
People said he was useless, them people all were fools
Because Curtis Loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues

On the day old Curtis died, nobody came and prayed
Ol' preacher said some words, and they chunked him in the grave
Well, he lived a lifetime, playing 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 Loew, hey, Curtis Loew
I wish that you was here so everyone would know
People said he was useless, them people all were fools
Because, Curtis, you're the finest picker to ever play the blues


Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

The Ballad of Curtis Loew (Lynyrd Skynyrd cover) song meanings
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