A Face in the Crowd

Well, OK.
Is a deal, tomorrow morning.
I'll sing you a song.
I went to Sarah Lawrence College,
I majored in music.

I learned that real American
music comes from the bottom up.

When Gershwin played at the New York
it was black tie music...

but the real beginning of it
was in folks that never owned a tie.

I just bumped into a fella you
never heard of, Rhodes.

Whas your first name?
Jack, or Mack,
whas the difference?

Calls himself "Lonesome Rhodes".
Don't be rushing me,
cut that thing off a minute.

Give me a chance to lubricate
my Adam's apple.

Nothing like a little medicine
to put you in the mood.

Ain't mamma a beauty?
A guitar beats a woman
any time!

I never have seen a woman
I could trust like this old guitar.

I love my mamma guitar.
She's always waiting for me
to pick her up and hold her.

Never asks me for money or goes
cheating around when I ain't looking.

If she gets a little sour, I just
give her a little twist like so...

and we're right back
in tune together.

Hey, Lonesome,
sing "Rye whisky".

"Hallelujah, I'm a bum."
She can see that plain enough.
Whenever a bunch of fellas
like us...

outcasts, hobos, nobodies,
gentlemen loafers...

one time or all time losers,
call us what you want to...

Whenever we get together,
we tell funny stories...

me and Beanie
and the rest of these...

hand-to-mouth tumbleweed boys
like you see in here.