(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 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 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