E _ _
D _ _
A _ _
E _ _ .
_ _ Well I used to wake the morning
B for the rooster crow.
E _ _ Searching for soda
A bottles to get
F# myself some dough.
E Run them down to the corner,
B down to the country store.
A Cash them in and give my money to a man
E named Curtis
G E Laws.
B Old Curt was a black
A man with
E white curly hair.
When he
B had a fizz of
D wine he did not
A have a
E care.
He used to
B own an old tow truck,
A used to
G play
E across his street _ .
B I'd give old Curt my
D money, he'd play
E hard games.
_
A.
Play me a
E song, Curtis Law, Curtis Law.
A.
Well I got your drinking
E money, tune up your double.
_
A.
People say it was useless,
E them people
F# all _ fools.
E Cause Curtis
D Law was the finest
A picker to ever
E play the blues.
_
D _ _ _ _
E _ .
_
E He
B looked to be
A sixteen,
E maybe I was ten.
_
B Mama used to woo
D me, but I'd go
A see him again.
E I'd
B climb my hands, stomp
A my feet, try
E to stay in time.
B He'd play me a
D song or two, then take
E another drink of
A wine.
Play me a
E song, Curtis Law, Curtis Law.
A Well I got your drinking
E money, tune up your double.
A People say it was
E useless, them people
F# all fools.
Cause
E _
D Curtis Law was the
A finest picker to ever
E play the blues.
D Yes _
A _ .
_
E _ sir, _ _
B _ _ .
A _
G _
E _ _ _ _
B _ _ .
D _
E _ _ _ _ _
B _
Em _ .
A _
E _ _ _ _ _
B _
Em _ .
D _
E _ _ _
A _ _ _
E _ .
_ _ _
A _ _ _ _
E _ .
_ _ _ _
A _ _ _
E _ .
_
F# _ _ _ _
E _ _
D _ .
_
A _ _
E _ _ _
B on the day old Curtis
A died nobody
E came to pray.
_
B Old preacher said
D some words and that
A chunked him into clay.
E Well
B he lived a
A lifetime
D playing the
E black man's blues.
And on the day
B he lost
D his life that's
E all he had to do.
A Play me a
E song, Curtis Law, Curtis Law.
A I wish that you
E was here so everyone would
A know.
People say it was
E useless, them people
F# all _ _
E fools.
Oh Curtis,
D you're the
A finest picker to ever
E play the blues.
_ _
D _ _ _ _
E _ _ .
_ _
D _ _ _
A _ _
B _ .
E _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .