I came up from Mississippi with a guitar full of songs
Thought I was really something maybe I was wrong
Got to make some money, got to pay my dues
Cause if I Hock my guitar how the hell am I supposed to play blues

Filled out an application for sweeping up the streets
They said I didn't qualify I couldn't disagree
I've got to find something, something I can use
If I hock my guitar how the hell am I supposed to play the blues

I can do without the honey or the sugar for my tea
These days I can do without a lot of things
My shark skin suit and my Stacy Adams shoes
All I really want to do is play my blues

INST

I had my last can of tuna with some cold green beans
Not all that appetizing but a man's got to eat
Up against the wall with nothing left to lose
If I hock my guitar how the hell am I supposed play the blues

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Bob Britt, Delbert McClinton, Michael Joyce