Standard tuning.

Riff 1:                      Riff 2:
e-------------------------| |-------------------------|
B-------------------------| |-------------------------|
G-------------------------| |-------------------------|
D-------------------------| |-----3-----1-------------|
A-----1-----1--3----------| |--3-----3-----3----------|
E--3-----3----------------| |-------------------------|

Intro: (Riff 1)
                                 (Riff 2)
    If you're looking for trouble
                               (Riff 1)
    You came to the right place
                                 (Riff 2)
    If you're looking for trouble
                              (Riff 1)
    Just look right in my face
                          (Riff 2)
    I was born standing up
                    (Riff 1)
    And talking back
    [NC]
    My daddy was a green-eyed mountain jack
                F                       C
    Because I'm evil, my middle name is misery
             G7   F   (tacet)
    Well I'm evil,    so don't you mess around with me

    (Play a couple of times a C chord. Then go to the key of D)

                    D7
    Well, I quit my job down at the car wash,
            D7
    Left my mama a goodbye note,
       D7
    By sundown I'd left Kingston,
            D7
    With my guitar under my coat,
                 G7
    I hitchhiked all the way down to Memphis,
          G7
    Got a room at the YMCA,
            D7
    For the next three weeks I went huntin' them nights,
         D7
    Just lookin' for a place to play,
            A7
    Well, I thought my pickin' would set 'em on fire,
        G7
    But nobody wanted to hire a guitar man.

    Well, I nearly 'bout starved to death down in Memphis,
    I run outta money and luck,
    So I bought me a ride down to Macon, Georgia,
    On a overloaded poultry truck,
    I thumbed on down to Panama City,
    Started pickin' out some o' them all night bars,
    Hopin' I could make myself a dollar,
    Makin' music on my guitar,
    I got the same old story at them all night piers,
    There ain't no room around here for a guitar man
    We don't need a guitar man, son

    So I slept in the hobo jungles,
    Roamed a thousand miles of track,
    Till I found myself in Mobile Alabama,
    At a club they call Big Jack's,
    A little four-piece band was jammin',
    So I took my guitar and I sat in,
      E7
    I showed 'em what a band would sound like,
           A7
    With a swingin' little guitar man.
    Show 'em, son

    If you ever take a trip down to the ocean,
    Find yourself down around Mobile,
    Make it on out to a club called Jack's,
    If you got a little time to kill,
    Just follow that crowd of people,
    You'll wind up out on his dance floor,
    Diggin' the finest little five-piece group,
    Up and down the Gulf of Mexico,
    Guess who's leadin' that five-piece band,
    Well, wouldn't ya know, it's that swingin' little guitar man.