ballad_of_curtis_lowe megan well I used to wake the mornin befor the rooster crowed searchin for soda bottles to get myself some dough brought 'em down to the corner down to the country store cash 'em in and give my money to a man named Curtis Lowe old Curt was a black man with white curly hair when he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care he used to own an old dobro used to play across his knee I'd give old Curt my money he play all day for me play me a song Curtis Lowe, Curtis Lowe well I got your drinkin' money tune up your dobro people said he was useless them people all were fools 'cause Curtis Lowe was the finest picker to ever play the blues he looked to be 60, maybe I was 10 momma used to whoop me but I'd go see him again I'd clap my hands, stomp my feet tryin to stay in time well he'd play me a song or two then take another drink of wine play me a song Curtis Lowe, Curtis Lowe well I got your drinkin money tune up your dobro people said he was useless but them people all were fools 'cause Curtis Lowe was the finest picker to ever play the blues on the day old Curtis died nobody came to pray old preacher said some words and they chucked him in the clay well he lived a lifetime playin' the black man's blues and on the day he lost his life that's all he had to lose play me a song Curtis Lowe, yeah Curtis Lowe I wish that you was here so everyone would know people said you was useless but them people all were fools cuz Curtis your the finest picker to ever play the blues 040823 what's it to you? who go blather from