| Well, I was passing by a pawn shop
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| In an older part of town
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| Something caught my eye
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| And I stopped and turned around
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| I stepped inside and there I spied
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| In the middle of it all
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| Was a beat up old guitar
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| Hanging on the wall
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| «What do you want for that piece of junk?»
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| I asked the old man
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| He just smiled and took it down
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| And he put it in my hand
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| He said, «You tell me what it’s worth
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| You’re the one who wants it»
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| Tune it up, play a song
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| And let’s just see what haunts it
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| So, I hit a couple of chords
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| In my old country way of strumming
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| And then my fingers turned to lightning
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| Man, I never heard it coming
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| It was like I always knew it
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| I just don’t know where I learned it
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| It wasn’t nothin' but the truth
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| So I just reared back and burned it
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| Well, I lost all track of time
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| There was nothing I couldn’t pick
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| Up and down the neck
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| I never missed a lick
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| The guitar almost played itself
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| There was nothing I could do
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| It was getting hard to tell
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| Just who was playing who
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| When I finally put it down
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| I couldn’t catch my breath
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| My hands were shaking
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| And I was scared to death
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| The old man finally got up
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| Said, «Where in the hell you been?
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| I’ve been waiting all these years
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| For you to stumble in»
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| Then he took down an old dusty case
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| Said, «Go on and pack it up
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| You don’t owe me nothing»
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| And then he said, «Good luck»
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| There was something spooky in his voice
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| And something strange on his face
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| When he shut the lid
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| I saw my name was on the case |