Primal Thing

All the cavemen 'round the fire, were banging jawbones
Telling tales and singing songs, and drinking cavemen beer
And all the girls were singing high, swaying by the fire
In that prehistoric light, a primeval choir

It's not black, it's not white
It's just a primal thing on a summers night
And it's always the same
The same old tune with a different name
Whooaaaa yeah yeah
Whooaaaa yeah yeah

Robby Johnson, Old Son House, banging on all hours
Cigar boxes, tea chest sound, Hellhound on my trail
In them honky tonks and bars, the cops are at the door
The sound of bottleneck guitar, and open chords

It's not black, it's not white
It's just a primal thing on a summers night
And it's always the same
The same old tune with a different name
Whooaaaa yeah yeah
Whooaaaa yeah yeah

As the evening fell they all were hypnotised
Telling tales the size of whales around the old campfire
As the evening fell they all were hypnotised
They didn't have a dollar bill but they were satisfied

All the young boys got guitars, from their uncles shop
Playing loud and living hard, electric lady
Jimmy scored himself a ride, down to the same address
Intersection number 9, the crossroads yeah

It's not black, it's not white
It's just a primal thing on a summers night
And it's always the same
The same old tune with a different name
Whooaaaa yeah yeah
Whooaaaa yeah yeah

It's not black, it's not white
It's just a primal thing on a summers night
And it's always the same
The same old tune with a different name
Whooaaaa yeah yeah
Whooaaaa yeah yeah



Credits
Writer(s): John Hudson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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