Epica

I was in a band, we were scheduled to appear

At a little roadhouse called the Get Down Here

A cinder block building with a hand-painted sign

Hunkered down straddling the county lines

When the crowd rolled in they were a motley mix

There were truckers and bikers and locals from the sticks

Each one meaner than a cougar in a cage

And the biggest one swaggered right up to the stage

He said, “We’ve heard everybody from David Allen Coe

To Chuck Berry singing ‘go Johnny go go

Got an autographed picture of Elvis on the shelf

So tell me girl what you got to say for yourself

I let the guitar do the talkin’, and the whole place started rockin’

My fingertips weren’t stoppin’ and that big dude started boppin’

No need to fuss, stop the squalkin’, just let the guitar do the talkin’

Now he was over in the corner with a chesire smile

The best lookin’ seventeen miles

Sittin’ there makin’ my poor heart sweet

I knew my chances were a long shot bet

Because a boy like that he’s heard every line

And I’ve never been the silver-tongue kind

But I figured I had me one chance

Of gettin’ that boy to dance

So I cranked up my amp...

I let the guitar do the talkin’, and the whole place started rockin’

My fingertips weren’t stoppin’ and that big dude started boppin’

No need to fuss, stop the squalkin’, just let the guitar do the talkin’

In a world of too many words

Sometimes your point is hard to get heard

I think I figured out a little way of getting mine through

I just put it on, tune it up and the whole place started rockin’

My fingertips weren’t stoppin’ and that big dude started boppin’

No need to fuss, stop the squalkin’, just let the guitar do the talkin’