Digital Tradition Mirror

My Old Man 3

My Old Man 3
(Jerry Jeff Walker)

My old man had a rounder's soul
He'd hear an old freight train and then he'd have to go
Said he'd been blessed with a Gypsy bone
And that's the reason he'd been cursed to roam.

He came through town back before the war
Didn't even know what he was lookin' for
Carried a tattered bag for his violin
Full of lots of songs of the places that he'd been.

He talked real easy, and had a smilin' way
He could pass along to you when his fiddle played
Makin people drop their cares and woes
To hum out loud those tunes that his fiddle bowed.

Til the people there began to join that sound
And everyone in town was laughin', singin', dancin' round
Like the fiddler's tunes were all they heard that night
As if some dream had said that all the world is right.

The fiddler's eye caught one beauty there
She had that rollin', flowin', golden kind of hair
He played for her as if she danced alone
He played his favorite songs, the ones he called his own.

Til she alone was dancin' in that room
The only thing left movin' to that fiddler's tune
He played until she was the last to go
Then he stopped and packed his case and said he'd take her home.

And all the nights that passed a child was born
All the years that passed, love would keep them warm
All their lives they'd share a dream come true
And all because she danced so well his fiddle tunes.

The train next morning blew a lonesome sound
As if she sang the blues of what she took from town
And all that I recall and said when I was young
Was no one else could really sing those songs he sung.

Copyright 1968, Atlantic Rec. Co.
Rec. on "Mr. Bojangles" ATCO SD 33-259


Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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