When Jimi Hendrix left the Army in 1962, he drove south of Fort Campbell to Nashville. He spent almost a year honing his chops in clubs along Jefferson Street like the Club Baron, the Stealaway, the Black Diamond and the Del Morocco. He carried his guitar with him in a plastic bag and his nickname was “Marbles”, because the locals believed he had lost them. Sadly, those clubs were mostly destroyed to build the Interstate 40-Jefferson Street interchange.

Jumping out of airplanes in his pocket with the spare change
Kentucky lied to him and me and Betty Jean
screaming like an eagle while I’m underneath the pillow
I feel the calluses from his fingers on the strings

Now I’m buried under the highway
where we played in ’62
this town keeps changing
and the rhythm of the wheels has been my blues

In a little old apartment above Joyce’s House of Glamour
dancing on the edge of the color line
I rolled off the stage of the Del Morocco
while he and Billy played I’m Sorry for You
ended up under a table staring up Little Richard’s shoes

Now I’m buried under the highway
where we played in ’62
this town keeps changing
and the rhythm of the wheels has been my blues

The road can change everything
the road can change anything
the road can change everything
the road changed everything

They used to call him marbles because they said he had lost them
but I’m the one who didn’t get to leave
now Jefferson Street’s different like the skyline in the distance
and all those clubs that disappeared lay here with me

Now I’m buried under the highway
where we played in ’62
this town keeps changing
and the rhythm of the wheels has been my blues