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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Rosanne Cash
Vocals
Bobby Bare
Vocals
Rodney Crowell
Vocals
Randy Scruggs
Acoustic Guitar
Rosemary Butler
Vocals
Billy Joe Walker, Jr.
Electric Guitar
Eddie Bayers
Drums
Michael Rhodes
Bass
John Cowan
Vocals
Patti Darey
Vocals
Terry Evans
Vocals
Vince Gill
Vocals
Willie Green
Vocals
Emmylou Harris
Vocals
Ula Hedwig
Vocals
Jennifer Kimball
Vocals
Bobby King
Vocals
Maxayne Lewis
Vocals
Arnold McCutler
Vocals
Jim Photoglo
Vocals
Harry Stinson
Vocals
James Burton
Guitar
Larry Crane
Guitar
Hank De Vito
Steel Guitar
Pat Flynn
Guitar
Albert Lee
Guitar
Jerry McGee
Guitar
Frank Reckard
Guitar
Ricky Skaggs
Fiddle
Steuart Smith
Guitar
Waddy Wachtel
Guitar
Reggie Young
Guitar
Anton Fig
Drums
Paul Leim
Drums
Larrie Londin
Drums
John Ware
Drums
Barry Becket
Keyboards
Tony Brown
Keyboards
Steve Goldstein
Keyboards
Shane Keister
Keyboards
Randy McCormick
Keyboards
Bob Santino
Keyboards
Benmont Tench
Keyboards
David Hungate
Bass
Edgar Meyer
Bass
Joe Osborne
Bass
Willie Weeks
Bass
Mark O'Conner
Fiddle
Emory Gordy Jr.
Bass
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Johnny Cash
Songwriter
Bergan White
Arranger
Emory Gordy Jr.
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Rosanne Cash
Producer
Rodney Crowell
Producer
Margie Hunt
Executive Producer
David Malloy
Producer
Randy Kling
Mastering Engineer
Richard Lescallette
Mastering Engineer
George Marino
Mastering Engineer
Dave Thoener
Recording Engineer
Steve Marcantonio
Recording Engineer
Donivan Cowart
Recording Engineer
Bradley Hartman
Recording Engineer
Joe Bogan
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
In a little cabaret in a South Texas border town
Sat a boy and his guitar and the people came from all around
And all the girls from there to Austin were slippin' away from home
And puttin' jewelry and hopped to take the trip to go and listen
To the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box
And he would play
Well, he couldn't ride or wrangle and he never cared to make it down
But give him his guitar and he'd be happy all the time
And all the girls from nine to ninety
Were, snappin' fingers, tappin' toes and beggin' him, "Don't stop"
And hypnotized, and fascinated
By the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box
And he would play
Then one day he was gone and no one ever saw him 'round
He vanished like the breeze, they forgot him in the little town
But all the girls still dreamed about him and hung around
The cabaret until the doors were locked
And then one day on the hit parade
Was the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box
And he would play
Writer(s): Johnny R. Cash
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