Tom: B
E|-------------------------------------------------------------|
B|-----------1/2---2-----2--------2--1/2---2-----2-------2-----|
G|--------0--1/2------2--------2-----1/2------2-------2--------|
D|--3--4--------------------2----------------------2-----------|
A|-------------------------------------------------------------|
E|-------------------------------------------------------------|
E|-------------------------------------------------------------|
B|-------------------------------------------------------------|
G|---2--0------------------------------------------------------|
D|---------4--2--0---------------------------------------------|
A|------------------4--2--0--------0--------0------------------|
E|---------------------------2--2-----2--2---------------------|
A E
In a little cabaret in a South Texas border town
E A
Sat a boy and his guitar and the people came from all around
A E
And all the girls from there to Austin
E A
Were slippin' away from home and puttin' jewelry in hock
A E
To take the trip, to go and listen
E A
To the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box
D
And he would play
E|------------------------------------------------------------------|
B|------------------------------------------------------------------|
G|------------------------------------------2--2-----0--------------|
D|------------0-----------0-----------0--4--------4-----4--2--------|
A|---0--2--4-----0--2--4-----0--2--4--------------------------------|
E|------------------------------------------------------------------|
E|----------------------------------------------------------------------|
B|----------1/2--2-----2--------2--1/2--2-----2--------2----------------|
G|----------1/2-----2--------2-----1/2-----2--------2-----2--0----------|
D|------------------------2----------------------2-----------4---2--0---|
A|--0--0----------------------------------------------------------------|
E|----------------------------------------------------------------------|
A
Well, he couldn't ride or wrangle
E
And he never cared to make a dime
A
But give him his guitar, and he'd be happy all the time
E
And all the girls from nine to ninety
A
Were snapping fingers, tapping toes, and begging him don't stop
E
And hypnotized and fascinated
A
By the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box
E A
And he would play
A E
Then one day he was gone, and no one ever saw him 'round
A
He vanished like the breeze, they forgot him in the little town
E
But all the girls still dreamed about him
A
And hung around the cabaret until the doors were locked
E
And then one day on the 'Hit Parade'
A
Was a little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box
D A
And he would play
