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There's a man in New Orleans |
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Who plays rock and roll |
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He's a guitar man |
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With a great big soul |
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He lays down a beat |
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Like a ton of coal |
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He goes by the name of King Creole |
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You know he's gone, gone, gone |
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Jumpin' like a catfish on a pole |
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You know he's gone, gone, gone |
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Hip shaking King Creole |
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When the king starts to do it |
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It's as good as done |
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He holds his guitar |
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like a tommy gun |
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He starts to growl |
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From way down his throat |
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He bends a string |
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And 'that's all she wrote' |
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Well, he sings a song about a crowded hole |
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He sings a song about a jelly roll |
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He sings a song about meat and greens |
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He wails some blues about New Orleans |
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Well, he plays something evil |
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Then he plays something sweet |
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No matter what he plays |
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You got to get up on your feet |
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When he gets the rockin' fever |
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baby, heaven sakes |
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He don't stop playin' |
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'Till his guitar breaks |
