That Old Black Magic

That old black magic has me in it's spell

That old black magic that you weave so well

Those icy fingers up and down my spine

That same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine

That same old tingle that I feel inside

and then that elevator starts it's ride

And round and round I go, up and down I go

like a leaf that's caught in the tide

I think my mother was right.

Later on, later on Dave and I took our own records into the front room

and played early guitar heroes like Chet Atkins, Chuck Berry,

Duane Eddy and James Burton, Charlie Christian and Leadbelly.

But to me the greatest of all these guitar players was a blues man from

Chicago called Big Bill Broonzy. We played all of these records,

constantly, on that radiogram.

When Dave and I had our first rehearsals with our school skiffle group,

all those rehearsals took place in that same front room.