Way back in 1965, when I heard the Black Snake Blues,
I was just a country boy sitting back there in my room.
Snuck out the window, going down those country roads,
Looking for the King of that good rocking Zydeco.

Way down at Slim’s Y-Ki-Ki, up there at the Blue Angel club,
Ole Clifton on the squeeze box, his brother Cleveland on the scrub.
I was hanging out at the back door, too young to get in,
I told my baby, “Baby we gotta come back here again.”

Chorus
Laissez le bon temps rouler,
Laissez les boulé boulé,
Laissez les ognons brulaient,
Brûlé toute la nuit.

Then one day, my dream came true.
Hanging around back stage, Clifton said, “Who are you?”
I said, “I’m just a young boy, waiting to get old.
Get out on the road and play some rocking Zydeco.”