If I Hock My Guitar

I came up from Mississippi
 With a guitar full of songs
 Thought I was really something
 Maybe I was wrong
 Got to make some money
 Got to pay my dues
 'Cause if I hock my guitar
 How the hell am I supposed to play the blues?
 Filled out an application
 For sweeping up the streets
 They said I didn't qualify
 I couldn't disagree
 I got to find something
 Something I can use
 If I hock my guitar
 Aw, hell, man
 I can do without the honey or the sugar for my tea
 These days I can do without a lot of things
 My shark-skin suit and my Stacy Adams shoes
 All I really wanna do is playing my blues
 Had my last can of tuna
 With some cold green beans
 Not all that appetizing
 But a man's got to eat
 Up against the wall
 Nothing left to lose
 If I hock my guitar
 How the hell am I supposed play the blues?
 Aw, man
 Aww