Trouble / Guitar Man (opening) Songtext
von Elvis Presley

Trouble
(Take six)
It′s a peacock
(Looking for trouble, she lives at my place)
(I'll say it, man)

(One, two, three, four, five, six)

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 standin' up
And talkin′ back
My daddy was a green-eyed mountain jack

Because I′m evil
My middle name is misery
Well, I'm evil, yeah
Oh, don′t you mess around with me

Look at that damn dog


God help us
Dog ran out of the studio, man
(Hey, Billy)
(Billy)

(Seven)
(Guitar Man opening)

(One, two, three, four, five, six)

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 standin' up
And talkin′ 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


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
And for the next three weeks I went huntin' them nightclubs
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 ran 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 of them all night bars
Hoping I could make myself a dollar
Makin' music on my guitar
I got the same old story as them all night piers
You know there ain't no room around here for a guitar man

So I slept in a hobo jungle
I roamed a thousand miles of track
′Til 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 jammed in
I showed ′em what a band would sound like
With a swingin' little guitar man
Show ′em, son

Now, 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
And 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
Well, guess who's leadin′ that five-piece band
Well, wouldn′t you know
It's the guitar man