Well, I was thumbing from Montgomery

I had my guitar on my back

When a stranger stopped beside me in an antique Cadillac

He was dressed like 1950

Half-drunk and hollow-eyed

He said, "It's a long walk to Nashville; would you like to ride, son?"

Well I sat down in the front seat

He turned on the radio

And them sad old songs coming outta them speakers was solid country gold

Then I noticed the stranger was ghost-white pale

When he asked me for a light

And I knew there was something strange about this ride

He said, "Drifter, can you make folks cry when you play and sing?

Have you paid your dues?

Can you moan the blues?

Can you bend them guitar strings?"

He said, "Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside?

'Cause if you're big star bound, let me warn you: it's a long, hard ride"

Then he cried just south of Nashville

And he turned that car around

He said, "This is where you get off, boy

'Cause I'm goin' back to Alabam."

And as I stepped outta that Cadillac

I said, "Mister, many thanks"

He said, "You don't have to call me mister, mister

The whole world called me Hank"

He said, "Drifter, can you make folks cry when you play and sing?

Have you paid your dues?

Can you moan the blues?

Can you bend them guitar strings?"

He said, "Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside?

'Cause if you're big star bound, let me warn you: it's a long, hard ride"

He said, "Drifter, can you make folks cry when you play and sing?

Have you paid your dues?

Can you moan the blues?

Can you bend them guitar strings?"

He said, "Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside?

Well, if you're big star bound, let me warn you: it's a long, hard ride

If you're big star bound, let me warn you: it's a long, hard ride."