Well, I was on my way home
From Woodgrain station
He stopped me in the middle of the road
He was a big black dog, whinin' along
He said, "You better do what you told"
I jumped back, rather astounded
I never heard a dog could speak
But my mouth went dry
When he looked me in the eye
He'd been itchin' just to bust for weeks
I said, "Hey, won't you scratch my back?
Hey babe, scratch my back"
Ooh I said, "Hey, won't you scratch my back?"
Well we were standing alone on the eastside
When she give-a me a smile
She said, "I like it here, watchin' what goes by"
And I don't doubt question why
I said, "Hey, what's that comin'
Starin' with that evil eye?"
"Well, there's a sweet honey child
Comin' over here and she
Looks just about my size"
I said, "Hey, won't you scratch my back?
Hey babe, scratch my back"
Ooh I said, "Hey, won't you scratch my back?"
Through the streets of Memphis
I try to find my black and tan
I looked on every corner
It was-a itchin' on another man
I reached into my pocket
I try to find myself some beer
"You can take my bread
Or sleep in my bed
But darlin', please stay right here"
I said, "Hey, won't you scratch my back?
Hey babe, scratch my back"
Ooh I said, "Hey, won't you scratch my back?"
Writer(s): Peter Frampton, Steve Marriott, Jerry Shirley, Gregory Ridley
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