(Words & music by Hubbard)
Well, I quit my job down at the car wash,
Left my mama a goodbye note,

By sundown I´d left Kingston,
With my guitar under my coat,
I hitchhiked all the way down to Memphis,
Got a room at the YMCA,
For the next three weeks I went huntin´ them nights,
Just lookin´ for a place to play,
Well, I thought my pickin´ would set ´em on fire,
But nobody wanted to hire a guitar man.

Well, I nearly ´bout starved to death down in Memphis,
I run outta money and luck,
So I bought me a ride down to Macon, Georgia,
On a overloaded poultry truck,
I thumbed on down to Panama City,
Started pickin´ out some o´ them all night bars,
Hopin´ I could make myself a dollar,

Makin´ music on my guitar,
I got the same old story at them all night piers,
There ain´t no room around here for a guitar man
We don´t need a guitar man, son

So I slept in the hobo jungles,
Roamed a thousand miles of track,
Till I found myself in Mobile Alabama,
At a club they call Big Jack´s,
A little four-piece band was jammin´,
So I took my guitar and I sat in,
I showed ´em what a band would sound like,
With a swingin´ little guitar man.
Show ´em, son

If you ever take a trip down to the ocean,
Find yourself down around Mobile,
Make it on out to a club called Jack´s,

If you got a little time to kill,
Just follow that crowd of people,
You´ll wind up out on his dance floor,
Diggin´ the finest little five-piece group,
Up and down the Gulf of Mexico,
Guess who´s leadin´ that five-piece band,
Well, wouldn´t ya know, it´s that swingin´ little guitar man.

The TV-special verse:

Well, I came a long way from the carwash,
Got to where I said I´d get
Now that I´m here I know for sure
I really ain´t  got there yet
Think I´ll start all over
Swing my guitar over my back
I´m gonna get myself back on the track

I´ll never, never ever look back
I´ll never be more than what I am
Wouldn´t you know
I´ m a swinging little Guitar man