» Real God Man / The Ride
Up there in your high society
They might tell you I’m no good
Girl they need to understand
Just who I am
I may be a real bad boy
But baby I’m a real good man
I may drink too much and play too loud
Hang out with a rough and rowdy crowd
That don’t mean I don’t respect
My mama or my uncle sam
Yes sir, yes ma’am
I may be a real bad boy
But baby I’m a real good man
I might have a reckless streak
At least a country-mile wide
If you’re gonna run with me
It’s gonna be a wild ride
When it comes to loving you
I’ve got velvet hands
I’ll show you how a real bad boy
Can be a real good man
I take all the good times I can get
I’m too young for growing up just yet
Ain’t much I can promise you
Girl to do the best I can
I’ll be damned
I may be a real bad boy
But baby I’m a real good man
I may be a real bad boy
Oh but baby I’m a real good man
Yes I am
I was thumbin' back from Montgomery
with a guitar on my back
When a stranger pulled up beside me in an antique Cadillac.
Well, he was dressed like 1950, half drunk and hallow eyed
Its a long walk to Nashville, would you like a ride, son.
Well I sat down in the front seat, and turned that radio on
and them sad old songs comin' outta them speakers was solid country gold.
Then I noticed the stranger was ghost white pale when he asked me for a light.
And knew there was somethin' strange about this ride.
He said: Mister can you make folks cry when you play and sing.
Can you pay your dues, can you moan the blues
Can you bend them guitar strangs.
He said: Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside,
Cause if your big star bound let me warn you its a long hard ride.
Well, he cried just south of Nashville, as he turned that car around.
he said: (spoken) this is where you get off, boy
cause I'm going back to Alabam'.
I stepped out of that ole Cadillac and I said Mister, many thanks.
he said you don't have to call me mister, Mister.
The whole world calls me Hank.
He said: Mister can you make folks cry when you play and sing.
Can you pay your dues, can you moan the blues
Can you bend them guitar strangs.
He said: Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside,
Cause if your big star bound let me warn you its a long hard ride.
He said: Mister can you make folks cry when you play and sing.
Can you pay your dues, can you moan the blues
Can you bend them guitar strangs.
He said: Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside,
Cause if your big star bound let me warn you its a long hard ride.
Cause if your big star bound let me warn you I gotta tell you