Second Helping Album

Artist(s): Lynyrd Skynyrd

Cover Art

Lynyrd Skynyrd Second Helping Cover Art

Tracklist

Sweet Home Alabama

length: 4:44
producer: Al Kooper
lead vocals: Ronnie Van Zant
engineer: Al Kooper
electric guitar: Gary Rossington, Allen Collins and Ed King
background vocals: Merry Clayton and Clydie King
electric bass guitar: Leon Wilkeson
keyboard: Billy Powell
miscellaneous support: Ronnie Van Zant
drums (drum set): Bob Burns
writer: Ed King, Gary Rossington, Ronnie Van Zant
misc: Ronnie Van Zant

Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the south-land
I miss 'ole' 'bamy once again
And I think it's a sin

Well I heard Mister Young sing about her
Well I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A southern man don't need him around any how

Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you

In Birmingham they love the Gov'nor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth

Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you

Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how bout you?

Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you

I Need You

length: 6:54
producer: Al Kooper
engineer: Al Kooper
writer: Ronnie Van Zant, Gary Rossington, Ed King
Ain't no need to worry
There ain't no use to cry
'Cause I'll be comin' home soon
To keep you satisfied
You know I get so lonely
That I feel I can't go on
And it feels so good inside, babe
Just to call you on the telephone, I said

Ooh baby, I love you
What more can I say?
Ooh baby, I need you
I miss you more every day

I woke up early this mornin'
And the sun came shining down
And it found me wishin' and hopin'
Mama you could be around
For you know I need you
More than the air I breathe
And I guess I'm just tryin' to tell you, woman
Oh, what you mean to me, yeah yeah

Ooh baby, I love you
What more can I say?
Ooh baby, I need you
I miss you more every day

I'm tryin' to tell you I love you
In each and every way
I'm tryin' to tell you I need you
Much more than a piece of lay

Ooh baby, I love you
What more can I say?
Ooh baby, I need you
I miss you more every day

Ooh baby I love you
What more can I say
Oh baby I need your sweet lovin'
I miss you more, more every day

Oh baby I love you
Baby, bay I need you

Don't Ask Me No Questions

length: 3:27
producer: Al Kooper
engineer: Al Kooper
horn arranger: Al Kooper
writer: Ronnie Van Zant, Gary Rossington
Well, every time that I come home
Nobody wants to let me be
It seems that all the friends I've got
Just got to come interrogate me
I appreciate your feelings
And I don't want to pass you by
But I don't ask you 'bout your business
Don't ask me about mine

Well it's true I love the money
And I love my brand new car
I like drinkin' the best of whiskey
And playin' in a honk-tonk bar
But when I come off the road
I just gotta have my time
'Cause I got to find a break in this action
Or else I'm gonna lose my mind

So don't ask me no questions
And I won't tell you no lies
So don't ask me 'bout my business
And I won't tell you goodbye

Well, what's your favorite color
And do you dig the brothers, is drivin' me up a wall
And every time I think I can sleep
Some fool has got to call
Well, don't you think that when I come home
I just want a little piece of mind?
If you want to talk about the business
Buddy you're just wasting time

So don't ask me no questions
And I won't tell you no lies
So don't ask me 'bout my business
And I won't tell you goodbye

I said don't ask no stupid questions
And I won't send you away
If you want to talk fishin'
Well, I guess that'll be OK

Workin' for MCA

length: 4:47
producer: Al Kooper
engineer: Al Kooper
writer: Ronnie Van Zant, Ed King
Seven years of hard luck, comin' down on me
From the Florida border, yeah up to Nashville, Tennessee
I worked in every joint you can name, mister every honky tonk
Along come Mr. Yankee Slicker, sayin' maybe you're what I want

[Chorus]
Want you to sign your contract
Want you to sign today
Gonna give you lots of money
Workin' For MCA

Nine thousand dollars, that's all we could win
But we smiled at the Yankee Slicker with a big ol' Southern grin
They're gonna take me out to California,
Gonna make me a superstar
Just pay me all of my money
And mister maybe you won't get a scar

[Chorus]

Suckers took my money since I was seventeen
If it ain't no pencil pusher, it got to be a honky tonk queen
But I'll sign my contract baby, and I want you people to know
That every penny that I make, I'm gonna see where my money goes

[Chorus]

The Ballad of Curtis Loew

length: 4:52
producer: Al Kooper
lead vocals: Ronnie Van Zant
engineer: Al Kooper
electric guitar: Ed King, Allen Collins and Gary Rossington
background vocals: Al Kooper
electric bass guitar: Leon Wilkeson
keyboard: Billy Powell
drums (drum set): Bob Burns
piano & acoustic guitar: Al Kooper
writer: Allen Collins, Ronnie Van Zant
Well, I used to wake the mornin'
Before the rooster crowed
Searchin' for soda bottles
To get myself some dough
Brought 'em down to the corner
Down to the country store
Cash 'em in, and give my money
To a man named Curtis Loew

Old Curt was a black man
With white curly hair
When he had a fifth of wine
He did not have a care
He used to own an old Dobro
Used to play it 'cross his knee
I'd give old Curt my money
He'd play all day for me

Play me a song
Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew
Well, I got your drinkin' money
Tune up your Dobro
People said he was useless
Them people all were fools
'Cause Curtis Loew was the finest picker
To ever play the blues

He looked to be sixty
And maybe I was ten
Mama used to whoop me
But I'd go see him again
I'd clap my hands, stomp my feet
Try to stay in time
He'd play me a song or two
Then take another drink of wine

Play me a song
Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew
Well, I got your drinkin' money
Tune up your Dobro
People said he was useless
Them people all were fools
'Cause Curtis Loew was the finest picker
To ever play the blues

Yes, sir

On the day old Curtis died
Nobody came to pray
Ol' preacher said some words
And they chunked him in the clay
Well, he lived a lifetime
Playin' the black man's blues
And on the day he lost his life
That's all he had to lose

Play me a song
Curtis Loew, hey Curtis Loew
I wish that you was here so
Everyone would know
People said he was useless
Them people all were fools
'Cause Curtis you're the finest picker
To ever play the blues



Thanks to fLANDERZ for the correction

Swamp Music

length: 3:33
producer: Al Kooper
lead vocals: Ronnie Van Zant
engineer: Al Kooper
electric guitar: Allen Collins, Gary Rossington and Ed King
background vocals: Leon Wilkeson
electric bass guitar: Leon Wilkeson
keyboard: Billy Powell
drums (drum set): Bob Burns
writer: Ed King, Ronnie Van Zant
Goin' down to the swamp
Goin' watch me a hound dog catch a 'coon
Well, I'm goin' down to the swamp
Goin' to watch a hound dog catch a 'coon
You know the hound dog makin' music
On a summer night by the light of the moon

Oh, fetch my cane pole mama
Goin' catch a bream or maybe two
Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Goin' catch a bream or maybe two
When the hound dogs start barkin'
Sound like ol' Son House singin' the blues

Hound dog sing that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
When the hound dog starts singin'
I ain't got them big ol' city blues

Go ahead pretty mamma
Lord, just take that city hike
Said, go ahead pretty mamma
Lord, just take your city hike
Well, I'd rather live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life

Singin' that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Well, I'd rather live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life
Well, I want to live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life

The Needle and the Spoon

length: 3:54
producer: Al Kooper
engineer: Al Kooper
writer: Allen Collins, Ronnie Van Zant
Thirty days, Lord, and thirty nights
I'm coming home on an airplane flight
Mama waiting at the ticket line
Tell me son, why do you stand there cryin'?

It was the needle and the spoon
And a trip to the moon
Took me away
Took me away

I've been feeling so sick inside
Got to get better, Lord, before I die
Some doctors couldn't help my head, they said
You'd better quit, son, before you're dead

Quit the needle, quit the spoon
Quit the trip to the moon
They gonna take you away
Lord, they gonna take you away

It was the needle and the spoon

I've seen a lot of people who thought they were cool
But then again, Lord, I've seen a lot of fools
I hope you people, Lord, can hear what I say
You'll have your chance to hit it some day

Don't mess with a needle or a spoon
Or a trip to the moon
They'll take you away

Lord, their gonna bury you boy
Don't mess with the needle
Now I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

Call Me the Breeze

length: 5:09
producer: Al Kooper
piano: Billy Powell
lead vocals: Ronnie Van Zant
engineer: Al Kooper
electric guitar: Ed King, Allen Collins and Gary Rossington
background vocals: Leon Wilkeson
electric bass guitar: Leon Wilkeson
horn: Steve Madaio, Bobby Keys and Trevor Lawrence
drums (drum set): Bob Burns
handclaps: Ronnie Van Zant, Moochie, Mr. Feedback, Punnel, Toby, Wolfman, Gooshie, Kooder and Cockroach
horn arranger: Al Kooper
composer: J.J. Cale
lyricist: J.J. Cale
Call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
Well now, they call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
I ain't got me nobody
I don't carry me no load
Ain't no change in the weather
Ain't no changes in me
Well, there ain't no change in the weather
Ain't no changes in me
And I ain't hidin' from nobody
Nobody's hidin' from me
Oh, that's the way its supposed to be
Well, I got that green light, baby
I got to keep movin' on
Well, I got that green light, baby
I got to keep movin' on
Well, I might go out to California
Might go down to Georgia, I don't know
Well, I dig you Georgia peaches
Makes me feel right at home
Well now, I dig you Georgia peaches
Makes me feel right at home
But I don't love me no one woman
So I can't stay in Georgia long
Well now, they call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
Well now, they call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
I ain't got me nobody
I don't carry me no load
Ooh, Mr. Breeze