Guitar Rag

Way down in ol' Kentucky There's a fella mighty lucky By the way he makes a guitar moan Hangin' round, singin' round a country store Pickin' like a chicken, pickin' up corn And every gal in the county, gathers all around him 'Cuz he's got rhythm in his bones Their feet start jumpin', do the shuffle and drag Every time they hear the rhythm of the guitar rag He gets a moanin' tone, he makes it grumble and groan When he gets to pickin' and a-pluckin' the strings He can make a deacon do the buck-and-wing All the fat and skinny does a little shimmy And their heads start to wiggle and wag Their feet start jumpin', do the shuffle and drag Every time they hear the rhythm of the guitar rag