In a little cabaret, in a south Texas border town,

Sat a boy and his guitar, and the people came from all around.

And all the girls from there to Austin were slippin' 'way from home

And puttin' jew'lry in hock to take the trip to go and listen

To the little dark haired boy that played the Tennessee flat top box.

And he would play...

Well, he couldn't ride or wrangle, and he never cared to make a dime.

But give him his guitar and he'd be happy all the time.

And all the girls from nine to ninety

Were snappin' fingers, tappin' toes and beggin' him, "Don't stop!"

And hypnotized, and fascinated

By the little dark haired boy that played the Tennessee flat top box.

And he would play...

Then one day he was gone and no one ever saw him 'round.

He vanished like the breeze, and they forgot him in the little town.

But all the girls still dreamed about him

And hung around the cabaret until the doors were locked.

And then one day on the hit parade

Was a little dark haired boy that played the Tennessee flat top box.

And he would play...