Oh, yeah, I know, I know, I know
I remember when I was only seventeen
The bohemian poet and disciple of the streets
Or was I just a little kid
Searching for identity in sixty-three
Heard it on the radio on a cold December night
It came burning down the air waves like a savior’s shining light
All the way from the U.S.A. across the Atlantic far away
The magic came
The house began to rock with Cupid and his bow
The hootchy kootchy man’s lonely harp began to blow
Little did I know that nothing in my life
Would ever be the same
Stayed up all night playing every forty-five
Trying to sound like you
Strummed my guitar in bed ’til my fingers bled
Trying to play like you
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the sounds you made
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the times we shared
And they carry on
I saw Otis back in nineteen-sixty-five
Tears in my eyes as he sung “These Arms Of mine”
But angels needed a soul man for the celestial blues band
They took him home
Oh, what I’d give to see that red mohair suit
And hear “Dock Of The Bay”
Or Sam in his two-tone singing “Bring It On Back Home”
What a show that would be
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the sounds you made
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the times we shared
And they carry on
If I sound sentimental it’s because this
Blue-eyed soul boys got so much respect
My gratitude to you runs deep, proud and true
I will never forget
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the sounds you made
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the times you gave
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the sounds you made
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy for the times you gave
Thank you Sam
Thank you Sam, thank you Otis
Thank you Muddy you’ll never, never fade away