E                                Bm
Well I used to wake the mornin' before the rooster crowed
E                            A                 D
Searchin for soda bottles to get myself some dough
E                             Bm
Brung em down to the corner, down to the country store
A                                                   E
Cash em in and give my money to a man named Curtis Lowe


E              Bm              A          E
Ol' Curt was a black man with white curly hair
E              Bm               A              E
When he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care
E                      Bm            A                  E
He used to own an old dobro used to play it 'cross his knee
E            Bm                   A               E
I'd give Ol' Curt my money, he'd play all day for me 

Chorus
A                       E
Play me a song, Curtis Lowe, hey Curtis Lowe
A                           E
I got your drinkin' money, tune up your dobro
A                                     E               D
People said you was useless but them people all were fools
E                         Bm                A            E
Cause Curtis Lowe was the finest picker to ever play the blues


E               Bm  A           E
He looked to be 60, maybe I was 10
E            Bm               A             E
Mama used to whoop me but I'd go see him again
E                   Bm            A                 E
I'd clap my hands, stomp my feets tryin' to stay in time
E             Bm              A                     E
He'd play me song or two then take another drink of wine

Chorus
E               Bm            A           E
On the day Ol' Curtis died nobody came to pray
E            Bm                         A                 E
Old preacher said some words and they chucked him in the clay
E           Bm       A                        E
He lived a lifetime playin' the black man's blues
E                  Bm                   A             E      
And on the day he lost his life that's all he had to lose


A                      E
Play me a song Curtis Lowe, hey Curtis Lowe
A                            E
I wish that you was here so everyone would know
A                                     E               D
People said you was useless but them people all were fools
       E                  Bm               A             E
Cause Curtis, you're the finest picker to ever play the blues


E   Bm    A    E