The Real Thing

(Chip Taylor) I was on a bus comin` back to us From Atlanta in `53 And I picked up a Rhythm & Blues magazine Layin` underneath my seat And I found out the stuff they`d been playin` us Wasn`t made from grits and bone And it would take more than the Crew Cuts And Pat Boone to take me home I want the real thing Give me the real thing Make it loud I`ll make you proud Or the songs they`d sing I don`t want you under my roof with your 86 proof Watered down ``til it tastes like tea You`re gonna pull my string Make it the real thing for me I remember old Elvis when he forgot To remember to forget And when young Johnny Cash hadn`t seen this side of Big River yet And when sun was more than daylight shinin`on Memphis, Tennessee And old Luther and Lewis and Perkins was pickin And playin` them songs for me I want the real thing Give me the real thing Make it loud I`ll make you proud Or the songs they`d sing I don`t want you under my roof with your 86 proof Watered down `til it tastes like tea You`re gonna pull my string Make it the real thing for me