The Old Man And His Horn - Gene Watson

The old man told his story

About the years gone by

How he played his horn down in New Orleans

In some old dingy dive

«I knew 'em all back then.»

he said

As he reached out for his horn

He closed his eyes and wet his lips

Then the blues were born

He played with so much feelin'

Tears came from his eyes

He stopped and reminisced a bit

And then he gave a sigh!

Said, «You know, I almost made it

But that was before your time

Dixieland, Po' Folks Blues

ScatMan Jack and wine.»

Slapped his knee and gave a grin

It sure was good back then

Reaching for his horn on the floor

Placed it in an old towsack

That hung across his back

He said «Goodbye!»

And shuffled out the door

Enthused by what he told me

I never got his name

So, I called the waitress over

And started to explain

A tired old man — his tarnished horn

Mem’ries of years gone by

How he played his horn and reminisced

Smiled with tear-dimmed eyes

She said you are mistaken

There’s been no one but you

But I know who you’re talkin' 'bout

I used to know him, too

You’ll find him down on Basin Street

In back of an old churchyard

A stone that reads, «Rest in Peace»

I tried but it sure was hard."

Slapped his knee and gave a grin

It sure was good back then

Reaching for his horn on the floor

Placed it in an old towsack

That hung across his back

He said «Goodbye!»

And shuffled out the door