These fingers of mine got brains in 'em.
She didn't mean to be unkind, why she even woke me up to say good-bye.
Y'know, there's nothin' like tearing up a good club now and then.
Other people - they practice and they practice... these fingers of mine, they got brains in 'em. You don't tell them what to do - they do it. God given talent.
You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain.
When they look back on me I want 'em to remember me not for all my wives, although I've had a few, and certainly not for any mansions or high livin' money I made and spent. I want 'em to remember me simply for my music.