Saving it up for Friday night
A band is blowing Dixie double four time
And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
With the Sultans, with the Sultans of swing
And the Sultans played Creole
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
About any trumpet playing band
You feel all right when you hear that music ring
Way on downsouth way on downsouth London Town
You check out Guitar George
It ain't what they call rock and roll
But not too many horns can make that sound
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing
He's got a daytime job he's doing alright
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
He knows all the chords, mind he's strictly rhythm
And an old guitar is all he can afford
And a crowd of young boys
Thank you goodnight now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
He doesn't want to make it cry or sing
And their platform soles, they don't give a damn
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies
They're fooling around in the corner
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Too much competition too many other places
And says at last just as the time bell rings
He can play honky tonk just like anything
You step inside but you don't see too many faces
