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Use A− / A+ para ajustar a leituraThe Real Thing
(Chip Taylor)I was on a bus comin' back to usFrom Atlanta in '53And I picked up a Rhythm & Blues magazineLayin' underneath my seatAnd I found out the stuff they'd been playin' usWasn't made from grits and boneAnd it would take more than the Crew CutsAnd Pat Boone to take me homeI want the real thingGive me the real thingMake it loud I'll make you proudOr the songs they'd singI don't want you under my roof with your 86 proofWatered down ''til it tastes like teaYou're gonna pull my stringMake it the real thing for meI remember old Elvis when he forgotTo remember to forgetAnd when young Johnny Cash hadn't seen this side ofBig River yetAnd when sun was more than daylight shinin'on Memphis, TennesseeAnd old Luther and Lewis and Perkins was pickinAnd playin' them songs for meI want the real thingGive me the real thingMake it loud I'll make you proudOr the songs they'd singI don't want you under my roof with your 86 proofWatered down 'til it tastes like teaYou're gonna pull my string
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