Out of the kickinest state of the union With cattle and the katydids A kid with dungarees with holes in the knees But they call him the Black Satin Kid Black Satin Kid, where you gonna run to Black Satin Kid Dounle kickin' Black Satin Kid Who you gonna drum to Black Satin Kid Shoulder shakin', heart breakin' Black Satin Kid All he ever carried was some funk-butt drums And they cost him every dime he had But he saved the show Left 'em screamin' for more When the band was walkin' out bad Black Satin Kid... Well you can talk about your East Coast/West Coast jazz And you Nashville country western soul They gonna talk about a kid from San Antone In the history book of Rock'n Roll