By: jimmy buffett 1971 Hardly seems a long time Just a minute of the day But the man who stood beside me More than gave himself away The food stain on his spotted shirt A gray beard on his face A man composed of many names So I just called him ace
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
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Copy to Clipboard: By: jimmy buffett 1971 Hardly seems a long time Just a minute of the day But the man who stood beside me More than gave himself away The food stain on his spotted shirt A gray beard on his face A man composed of many names So I just called him ace
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
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