The Ballad of Curtis Loew
Written by Allen Collins - Ronnie Van Zant
Well I used to wake the morning before the rooster crowed
Searching for soda bottles to egt myself some dough
Brought 'em down to the corner, down to the country store
Cash 'em 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'd give old Curt my money, he'd play all day for me
Then take another drink of wine.
Chorus
Yes sir
On the day old Curtis died, nobody came to pray
Ol' preacher said some words, and they chunked him in the clay
But he lived a lifetime playin' 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 are fools
'Cause Curtis you're the finest picker to ever play the blues
Big wheels keep on turning carry me home to see my kin singing songs about the southland I miss old ba...
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