Tennessee Flat-Top Box

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 slipping away from home
 And putting jewelery in hock
 To take the trip, to go and listen
 To the little dark-haired boy
 That played the Tennessee flat top box
 And he would play
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 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 nine to ninety
 Were snapping fingers, tapping toes
 And begging him don't stop
 And hypnotized and fascinated
 By the little dark-haired boy
 That played the Tennessee flat top box
 And he would play
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 Then one day he was gone
 And no one ever saw him 'round
 He'd vanished like the breeze
 And they forgot him in the little 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 a little dark-haired boy
 That played the Tennessee flat top box
 And he would play