Faster Horses Tom T. Hall
He was an old-ti[G]me cowboy, don't you understand?
His eyes were sharp as razor blades; his face was leather-tanned
His t[C]oes were[G] pointed inwards from a-hangin' on a horse
He was an old phil[D7]osophe[G]r, of course
He [G]was so thin I swear you coulda used him for a whip
He had to drink a beer to keep his britches on his hips
I k[C]new I had to ask him 'bout the m[G]ysteries of life
He spit between his bo[D7]ots and he replie[G]d:
[G] [C] [D7] [G]
It's faster horses -- younger women -- older whiskey -- more money!
He s[G]miled and all his teeth were covered with tobacco stains
He said It don't do men no good to pray for peace and rain
C g
Peace and rain is just a way to say prosperity
And buffalo chips is [D7]all it means to [G]me.
I to[G]ld him I was a poet; I was searchin' for the truth
I do not care for horses, whiskey, women or the loot
I s[C]aid I was a writer; my soul was all afire
He looked at me and s[D7]aid "You are a l[G]iar."
[G] [C] [D7] [G]
It's faster horses -- younger women -- older whiskey -- more money!
Well, [G]I was disillusioned, if I may say the least
I grabbed him by the collar and I jerked him to his feet
Ther[C]e was something cold and shiny a-layin' by my head
So I started to beli[D7]eve the things he sa[G]id.
Now my[G] poet days are over, and I'm back to bein' me
As I enjoy the peace and comfort of reality
If my b[C]oy ever asks me what it is that I have learned
I think that I will r[D7]eadily a[G]ffirm:
[G] [C] [D7] [G]
It's faster horses -- younger women -- older whiskey -- more money!
[G] [C] [D7] [G]
It's faster horses -- younger women -- older whiskey -- more money!
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