Chorus:
But Ace can't read and Ace
can't write
And he sleeps on a bench at
night
A little man the world has
left behind
He ain't bitter, he ain't
sweet
Makes his living on the street
Never knowing what he's gonna
find
Born in Mississippi
Picking cotton as a child
Left soon for the city
Where he heard that life was
wild
That was fifty years ago
When nothing's really strange
>From a poor dirt farm to
dirty streets
Is really not much change
Chorus:
And Ace can't read and Ace
can't write
And he sleeps on a bench at
night
A little man the world has
left behind
He ain't bitter, he ain't
sweet
Makes his living on the street
Never knowing what he's gonna
find
Go back to the country
No he really can't do that
Wasted years have left him
Nothing but an old straw hat
So he puts it on his head
And waves a last good-bye
No time left to turn around
And no time to ask why
Chorus:
Ace can't read and Ace can't
write
And he sleeps on a bench at
night
A little man the world has
left behind
He ain't bitter, he ain't
sweet
Makes his living on the street
Never knowing what he's gonna
find
And this old world has left
poor Ace behind
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |