Fred's Cafe
Down in Western Louisiana
There's a town where the people play
Early every Saturday morning
A little barroom called Fred's Cafe

You gotta get there bright and early
Cause they shut down in the middle of the day
And every time I try to go there,
somethin' seems to get in my way

Chorus:
Someday, Someday,
I'm gonna make it down to Fred's Cafe
Saturday mornin', Mamou, Louisiana
Gonna listen to that bayou swamp band play

In '89 I hit the Louisiana border
But I didn't even make it to the French Quarter
Stopped in a bar in Old Delacroix
Had a little runin with a good ol' boy

I couldn't help wonderin' why he was starin'
He said "Boy, I don't like what you're wearin'
He pulled doubt a pistol, knocked me in the dirt
Tried to shoot Bob Marley off the front of my shirt
I headed back east so I woudn't get hurt

In '92 I headed back to Louisiana
But I only made it to Flora-Bama
Met up with some drinkers
Started partyin' hard
Woke up Saturday morning in an Alabama graveyard

Tried again in '95
But once again I didn;t arrive
Started playin Black Jack with some Voodoo hippie
On a river boat in Biloxi, Mississippi

I won some money; he lost his car
He asked me for a lift to a neighborhood bar
I didn't know that he'd just jumped bail
I did a lot of fast talkin' at the county jail

Chorus

Copyright 1997 by John Cusatis
The Band:
John Cusatis: Acoustic Rhythm Guitar, Rub board BR> Jeff Houts: Acoustic Lead Guitar
Hawke Morffi: Mandolin
Rob Posey: Harmonica
Debbie Pasek: Bass
Tommy Nolan: Drums




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