He was a poor boy. raised in a small family
He kindda had a craving for something
no one else could see
They said that he was crazy
The kind that no lady should meet
He went up to the city
And wondered around in the streets
He wants to dance
Oh yeah, he wants to sing
Oh yeah, he wants to see the lights a flashing
Listen to the thundering
He saw it in a window
Marked up a new kind of man
He kindda liked the feeling
So shiny and smooth in his hand
He took it to the country
And practiced for days without rest
And then one day he felt it
He knew he could stand with the best
They got me smashed
Oh yeah, he was the same
Oh yeah, it's a certain kind of fool
That likes to hear the sound of his own way

A poster on a store front
Picture of a wanted man
He had a reputation
Pretty lot far through the land
It wasn't for the money
At least, it didn't start that way
It wasn't for the running
But now he's running everyday