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

â€~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