There's a man in New Orleans
Who plays rock and roll
He's a гитара man
With a great big soul
He lays down a beat
Like a ton of coal
He goes by the name of King Creole


Ты know he's gone, gone, gone
Jumpin' like a catfish on a pole
Ты know he's gone, gone, gone
Hip shaking King Creole


When the king starts to do it
It's as good as done
He holds his guitar
like a tommy gun
He starts to growl
From way down his throat
He bends a string
And "that's all she wrote"

Well, he sings a song about a crawdad hole
He sings a song about a желе roll
He sings a song about pork and greens
He wails some blues about New Orleans


Well, he plays something evil
Then he plays something sweet
No matter how he plays
Ты got to get up on your feet
When he gets the rockin' fever
baby, heaven sakes
He don't stop playin'
'Till his гитара breaks