Elvis Presley — Trouble/Guitar Man NBC TV Special

If you're looking for trouble You came to the right place If you're looking for trouble Just look right in my face I was born standing up And talking back My daddy was a green-eyed mountain jack Because I'm evil, my middle name is misery Well I'm evil, so don't you mess around with me I've never looked for trouble But I've never ran I don't take no orders From no kind of man I'm only made out Of flesh, blood and bone But if you're gonna start a rumble Don't you try it on alone Because I'm evil, my middle name is misery Well I'm evil, so don't you mess around with me I'm evil, evil, evil, as can be I'm evil, evil, evil, as can be So don't mess around don't mess around don't mess around with me I'm evil, I'm evil, evil, evil So don't mess around, don't mess around with me I'm evil, I tell you I'm evil So don't mess around with me Yeah! 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 Play "Trouble/Guitar Man"