JIMMY HALLO GEORGE
(version 2)

Music is in my heart, blues and swing sing my soul
So if ya’ wanna rock ‘n’ roll just click the beat and bop with me
Jimmy, hello George
Jimmy, hello George
Jimmy, hello George
Click the beat and bop with me

Play that blues and play that swing, yes I like it, yes I like it
Sing the songs you wanna sing, yes I like it, yes I like it
Just write a song and add a riff that goes
La da di, da da di, da da di, da da, yes I like it
La da di, da da di, da da di, da da, yes I like it

Music is in my heart, blues and swing sing my soul
So if ya’ wanna rock ‘n’ roll just click the beat and bop with me
Jimmy, hello George
Jimmy, hello George
Jimmy, hello George
Just click the beat and bop with me
Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy

(version 2)

What’s you name? What’s your number? What’s your color?
Who’s your momma? Who’s your daddy? It doesn’t matter
Bukka White said, “You don’t have to be black to be blue”

Come to my bed and we can figure out what really matters
Playin’ guitar attracts the drums
The drums attract the bass and then the keyboards come

Hey Mr. Johnson, thanks for the music
We’re eating up the records that you old guys made
And we’re standin’ at the crossroads now
And we’re talking with the devil ‘bout the passion of blues
The passion of blues

What’s your name? What’s your number? What’s your color?
What’s your sex? What’s your religion? It doesn’t matter
Piano Red said, “You don’t have to be black to be the blue”

Come to my bed and maybe figure out what really matters
Playin’ guitar attracts the drums
The drums attract the bass and then the keyboards come

Hey Lightnin’ Hopkins, thanks for the music
We’re eating up the records that you old guys made
And we’re standin’ at the crossroads now
And we’re talking with the devil ‘bout the passion of blues
The passion of blues, the passion of blues, we got a passion for blues

Playin’ guitar attracts the drums
The drums attract the bass and then the keyboards come
Hey Muddy Waters, thanks for the music
We’re eating up the records that you old guys made
And we’re standin’ at the crossroads now
And we’re talking with the devil ‘bout the passion of blues
The passion of blues, the passion of blues, we got a passion for blues

Phoebe girl with the sparkler eyes
My little Phoebe an angel in disguise
Phoebe, you make my old heart new
You’re the moon in a sky of baby blue

Phoebe, I’m fillin’you up with love
So someday when heartache and sadness come
My love will float you to the moon leavin’ you safe in a sky of baby blue

Everybody’s says you’re gonna be a heartbreaker
Drop dead gorgeous, a boon for the undertaker
Look at those pictures of us laughin’ at the lake
And guess whose heart you’re gonna break

My love will float you to the moon where you’ll be safe in a sky of baby blue

Phoebe you’re gonna be a heartbreaker
Drop dead gorgeous and loved by the undertaker
Look at those pictures of us laughin’ at the lake
And see whose heart you’re gonna break

I’m tippin’ the TV spillin’ out the pretty girls
Pretty toys for ugly boys talkin’ monkey noise, uh huh
It’s sex and cinema. They wanna keep you amused
Dazed and confused, so you can be easily used

Hey, we don’t have what you want
(We’ll sing another song)
Hey, we don’t have what you want
(We’ll play another song)
Hey, we don’t have what you want
(We’ll write another song for ya’)
Hey, we don’t have what you want
And maybe you can sing along
Just do what ya’ wanna do
Saddle up and ride your kangeroo away

Over and over, it’s the same ol’ thing
Love is the answer, but cunning is king
While the angel of innocence is raped and pilloried
While the minister of justice sits pickin’ chicken out his teeth

Hey, we don’t have what you want
(We’ll sing another song)
Hey, we don’t have what you want
(We’ll play another song)
Hey, we don’t have what you want
(We’ll write another song)
Hey, we don’t have what you want
and maybe you can sing along

Baby take a u-ey straight on back to me, a u-ey u-ey u-ey
straight on back to me
Cuz baby where you’re goin’ ya’ know you should not be

I need a little money so i can pay my rent,
a little bit of money so i can pay my rent
My bullfrog wouldn’t like it if we had to move again

Baby at my funeral don’t want no one to cry,
baby at my funeral nobody better cry
Just chisle on my tombstone, “He came, he sang, he died”

Baby take a u-ey straight on back to me,
a u-ey u-ey u-ey straight on back to me
Cuz baby where you’re goin’ ya’ know you should not be

The collector collects all kinds of different things
Mojos, yo-yo’s, maybe butterfly wings
Baseball cards and records, books; all autographed
Porcelain penguins, maybe wood carved into giraffes
Everything he buys he arranges on a shelf
He dusts ‘em off and keeps ‘em clean as if they were himself
He’ll dine you and he’ll wine you like a friend true blue
But be careful, the collector might be collecting you

Silent movies, rare guitars, ash trays, any kind of gun
Automobiles and train sets, he says it’s all for fun
Stamps and hats and concert posters, antique toasters, maps
He lies awake at night and worries about what he doesn’t have
He comes to see me play a lot and always stays until the end
He says he’s got every record I ever made
He never brings a friend
And in all of this collectin’ I detect a lack of love
He’s got me thinkin’ about the president of the Selena fan club

Knock, knock there’s nothing in your head
talk, talk is all ya do
knock, knock there's nothin in your heart
everything ya you ya do for you
there's nothin' in your head, automatic man
nothin' in your heart but an old tin can

Knock, knock there's nobody knockin'
Talk, talk it's just you talkin'
Tick, tock, there’s a dead man's walkin'
and an empty rockin' chair rockin'
There's nothin' in your head, automatic man
nothin' in your heart but an old tin can

Hey, hey go way don't worry 'bout me
Your mind and your heart must both be free
You're better off dead than hangin' around
in automaton town, automaton town

Hey, hey go way don't worry 'bout me
Your mind and your heart must both be free
You're better off dead than hangin' around
automaton town, automaton town

I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I’m on my feet,
but they don’t care to walk now
I gotta get me some, I wanna bang a drum, so baby can I have it?
I can’t take it, if ya wanna shake it, we gotta get naked,
so let’s go home now
I’ll kiss your pretty face, and tearin’ off your lace,
in between your legs I’ll tumble into mystery
Oh, baby you can come with me
Baby you can come with me
Baby you can come with me

I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I am on my feet,
but they don’t care to walk now
‘Cuz girl I long for you, I’m getting’ longer too,
I’m getting longer and longer
I got my jacket, I’ll tear it off my back and throw it
on the grass then I’ll follow you down
When I lick you there like that, my little pussy cat,
you’re gonna arch your back and tumble into mystery
Oh… baby you can come with me
Baby you can come with me
Baby you can come with me

(version 2)

When I was young, all I did was sing the blues
When I was young, all I did was sing the blues
It was whiskey and women and playin’ guitar and singin’
And that’s all I’d ever do
Now I’m getting old and I’m told that the blues is out of style
It makes me stop and think, pour myself a drink
Pick up my guitar and play and sing the blues awhile

When I was young all I did was play the blues
When i was young all I did was sing the blues
Now I play with my woman , I play my guitar and sing
And that’s all I ever do

We played all night, slept all day, burned down sex like cigarettes
The glory days are gone now and I’m out on the road
But where are all the rebels, where’s the rock and roll?
Where’s the music, where’s the beat?
We’re the exiles down on main street

We’d broken every rule, exploded every sound
The smoke from what we did blew down to Nashville town
The glory days are gone now and I’m still out on the road
But where are all the rebels, where’d everybody go?
Where’s the feelin’, where’s the beat?
We’re the exiles down on main street.

The dimming of the light, the pride before the fall
The million-dollar telecaster hangin’ on the rich guy’s wall
The glory days are gone now and I’m out on the road
A rebel shouts into the wind, “Man, that’s the way it goes”
We’re the music, we’re the beat, we’re the exiles down on main street