Rocky by Russell Cushman

His boots upon the dashboard,
sweat running down his face.
Said his name was Rocky,
“C’mon man, let’s blow this place!
I’m headed up to Ft. Worth,
Mister, thanks for the ride.”
So my rig sailed ‘cross Texas,
with this thumber by my side.

“Blues guitar” he gleamed,
hugging a weathered case.
“They go crazy when I play,
but no one knows my face.”
He spit on my floor mat,
when I asked him his last name.
His eyes burned through the windshield-
“I’m not in it for the fame.”
(Chorus) Just give me this guitar,
you can have the rest.
This guitar is my passion-
What I can do best.
It takes me up to places
Some I remember well,
I know the peace of blues heaven-
the thrill of rock ‘n roll hell.

He slept through Waller, and
Navasota and Hearne,
air-guitaring a Mance Lipscomb song
that he had almost learned.
Train crossin’ woke him in Waco,
He sat up with wild eyes.
“Tomcat Courtney!” he chuckled,
“He finally got wise!”
(Chorus) Just give me this guitar,
you can have the rest.
This guitar is my passion,
what I can do best.
It takes me up to places
You must promise not to tell.
I know the way to blues heaven-
the bridge o’re rock ‘n roll hell.

When we crossed the Brazos River,
he slumped back in the seat.
He began to preach softly,
to a Brazos bottom beat:
“Life is a race- between your
passion and your health.
Some search for significance-
and some just want the wealth.”
(Chorus) Just give me this guitar,
you can have the rest.
This guitar is my passion,
what I can do best.
It takes me up to places
I promised not to tell,
I know the high of blues heaven-
the lows of rock an’ roll hell.

He sang,“The blues are a river,
the waterway of life.
Rock n’ roll is a mountain,
a panorama of strife.
One is the alpha,
that always salves my soul.
The other is the living end,
I’m talkin’ Rock n’ Roll!”
(Chorus) Just give me this guitar,
you can have the rest.
This guitar is my passion,
what I can do best.
It takes me up to places
I hesitate to tell,
I know the high of blues heaven-
the lows of rock an’ roll… Hell!

When we stopped at the Circle,
the mornin’ sun had quickened.
He yawned an’ slicked his hair,
and his blues- blood thickened.
He snorted like a bull in a chute,
started to dive from the cab.
I slipped him a twenty- but he
stuffed it back- with a jab.
(Chorus) Just give me this guitar,
you can have the rest.
This guitar is my passion,
what I can do best.
That’s why I’m out here-
releasing this awesome gift.
And one more thing, Mister,
thanks for the lift.
( repeat Chorus) Just give me this guitar,
you can have the rest.
This guitar is my passion
what I can do best.
It takes me up to places
I promised not to tell,
Like Brazos blues heaven-
An’ rock an’ roll hell.