Tom: E Intro: E D5 A E5 E E|------------------------------------------------------ B|------------------------------------------------------ G|-13--13/11--9-9/11-------------9-----/13-13\11--9/13-- D|------------------------9--11-----9------------------- A|------------------------------------------------------ E|------------------------------------------------------ E B7 Well, i used to wake the mornin' before the rooster crowed, E A F#7 Searchin' for soda bottles to get myself some dough. E B7 Run 'em down to the corner, down to the country store, A E Cash 'em in, and give my money to a man named curtis loew. Verso: E B7 A G E Old curt was a black man with white curly hair, E B7 D A G When he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care, E B7 A G E He used to own an old dobro, used to play it 'cross his knee E B7 D E I give old curt my money, he play all day for me. Refrão: A E Play me a song, curtis loew, curtis loew, A E Well, i got your drinkin' money, tune up your dobro. A E F#7 People said he was useless, them people all were fools, E D A E 'cause curtis loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues E D A E E|-----------------------------------------------9---7-------- B|-----------------------7--------7--------7/9-----------8\7-- G|-/13--13/11--9-9/11-------7--------7--9--------------------- D|-----------------------------7------------------------------ A|------------------------------------------------------------ E|------------------------------------------------------------ (Verso) He looked to be sixty, and maybe i was ten, Mama used to whup me, but i'd go see him again. I clap my hands, smy feets, try to stay in time, He'd play a song or two, then take another drink of wine. E D A E|-----------------------7---------- B|--------------------------8/7----- G|-/13--13/11--9-9/11-------------9- D|---------------------------------- A|---------------------------------- E|---------------------------------- (Verso) On the day old curtis died, nobody came to pray, Ol' preacher said some words, and they chunked him in the clay. But 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, curtis lowe, I wish that you was here so everyone would know. People said he was useless, them people all are fools, 'cause curtis you're the finest picker to ever play the blues.