Tennessee Flat-Top Box

In a little cabaret
In a South Texas border town
Sat a boy and his guitar
And the people came from all around
And all the girls
From there to Austin
Were slippin' away from home
And puttin' jewelry in hock
To take the trip
To go and listen
To the little dark-haired boy
That played the Tennessee flat top box

And he would play

Well, he couldn't ride or wrangle
And he never cared to make a dime
But give him his guitar
And he'd be happy all the time
And all the girls
From nine to ninety
Were snappin' fingers, tappin' toes
And beggin' him: "Don't stop"
And hypnotized and fascinated
By the little dark-haired boy
That played the Tennessee flat top box

And he would play

Then one day he was gone
And no one ever saw him 'round
He vanished like the breeze
And they forgot him in the little town
But all the girls
Still dreamed about him
And hung around the cabaret
Until the doors were locked
And then one day
On the hit parade
Was a little dark-haired boy
That played a Tennessee flat top box

And he would play