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I was on my way to Nashville, Planned to be a country star, The Grand Old Opry was where I was meant to be. I drove across the Mississippi, Stopped in Memphis for the night, And that's where fate stepped in and changed my destiny. I found a cheap motel and showered, Went out to get a bite to eat, My cash was low, so there was little I could choose. A cup of coffee, and a burger, A slice of southern pecan pie, And a copy of the latest Opry news. But in a small café on Beale Street, Upon a postage stamp-sized stage, A pinpoint spot to frame her face was all they used, I watched my dreams of fame in Nashville Fade like smoke rings in the air When I heard Lutie Mae McDaniel sing the blues. You could tell she'd been a looker, But her voice, once pure, I'm sure, Now was raspy, wrecked by cigarettes and booze. But every word was raw emotion, Full of love, and loss, and life, And I felt every single one down to my shoes. There was no one on piano, Just Lutie Mae and a guitar, At break I asked if my assistance she could use. She drawled, "Auditions are tomorrow." I said, "Ma'am, here I am tonight." Then I sat down right there and knocked out "Beale Street Blues". If you should ever get to Memphis And find you've time upon your hands, Check out a small and smoky dive called "Beale Street Lu's". That's now my little slice of heaven Where each night at eight and ten I play while Lutie Mae McDaniel sings the blues.
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