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.