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' away from home and puttin' jewelry in hock
To take the trip to go and listen
To the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennesse 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 9 to 90
Were snappin' fingers, tappin' toes, and beggin' him "don't stop"
And hypnotized and fascinated
By the little dark-haired boy who 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 a breaze
They forgot him in the 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 the little dark-haired boy
Who played the Tennessee flat top box
And he would play