Guitar Slinger Lyrics - The Brian Setzer Orchestra

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 

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Now I called Shorty and Lefty 

There was a bassman 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 

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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 canal 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 bassman had a bust 

From back home in a raid 

So it was just me and Shorty 

Standing on main parade 

We liquidized our assets 

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