Тональность: D# minor•
Verse 1
Ebm
He was sitting out on his front porch
Ab
pickin' when I snuck up behind his shack
He was playin' that ol' beat- up guitar
of his to a dog that he called Jack
Ebm
Now my daddy used to tell me boy,
Ab
don't go wanderin' round his place
Why that man could be Satan's right arm,
Db
he's got evil in his face
Ebm
But boy, he'd make that ol' beat- up guitar
Ab
sound like it cost a hundred dollar bill
Db
Ab
Even though he'd lost four of his fingers
Ebm
workin' in a back woods sawmill
I used to stand there in the darkness
Ab
and I'd listen while he played
Db
Ab
And until this very day I can still recall every
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Db
Ebm
lick he ever made
Db
Well he played
Verse 2
Gb
Db
punk and Blues, folk and Rock,
Ab
Ebm
he didn't know they had a name
Gb
Db
But he could ring them strings, make em sing,
Ab
Bb
he was way ahead of the game
Gb
Db
Ab
He took his thumb and he'd slap it numb and say "Jack,
Ebm
here's how it's done
Db
So just lay back and listen boy,
Ab
Ebm
to the man with the golden thumb"
Verse 3
Ebm
Ab
One night I finally got up my nerve,
and I walked up to that old man
Db
Gb
Ab
And them cold black eyes stared down at me
Ebm
and my feet kinda shuffled in the sand
He said, "Hey, what's a kid like you doin'
Ab
hangin' round an old man like me?"
Db
Ab
I said, "Mister, I just love your playin'"; he said,
Db
"Well, then pull up and have a seat!"
Ebm
Well I spent a lot of time in his cabin,
Ab
just him and that old dog, and me
Db
Ab
And, folks, it was there that I heard the best
guitar in the state of Tennessee
Ebm
And you know, to my eyes,
Ab
it was a miracle just to see the way it was done
Db
Ab
Ebm
Db
The good Lord made him born blind but He gave him a golden thumb
Ebm
Db
Gb
Db
Interlude 1
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Verse 4
Ebm
I spent a many nights at his cabin,
Ab
and he taught me everything I know
Db
Ab
He said "Son, we oughta take your banjo
Ebm
and my guitar and hit the road"
So, we went down to Dallas and we killed 'em,
Ab
did the same thing in New Orleans
Db
Ab
We raised the roof in ol' Saint Lou
Db
and I can still hear the people scream
Ebm
I can feel him in
Verse 5
Db
my fingers,
Ebm
you can hear him every time I strum
Ab
Ebm
Db
Heard a whole lot of pickers but they can't hold
Gb
Ebm
Db
Ebm
a candle to the man with the golden thum b
Verse 6
Db
punk and Blues, folk and Rock,
Ab
Ebm
he didn't know they had a name
Gb
Db
But he could ring them strings, make em sing,
Ab
Bb
he was way ahead of the game
Gb
Db
Ab
He'd take his thumb and slap it numb and say "Boy,
Ebm
here's how it's done
Db
Ab
Db
If you take note you might learn to play like the man with the golden thumb"
Outro 1
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Gb
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Ab
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Cb
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