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 GEORGE STRAIT - The Real Thing Lyrics

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

I remember old Elvis when he forgot
To remember to forget
And when young Johnny Cash hadn't seen this side of
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Big River yet
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