He was an old-time cowboy, don't you understand,
His eyes were sharp as razor blades, his face was leather-tanned,
His toes were pointed inward from a-hangin' on a horse,
He was an old philosopher, of course.
He was so thin, I swear you could have used him for a whip,
He had to drink a beer to keep his breeches on his hips,
I knew I had to ask him about the mysteries of life
He spit between his boots and he replied:
'It's faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, and more money! '
He smiled and all his teeth were covered with tobacco stain,
He said 'it don't do men no good to pray for peace and rain.
Peace and rain is just a way to save prosperity,
And buffalo chips is all it means to me.'
I told him I was a poet, I was lookin' for the truth,
I do not care for horses, whiskey, women or the loot.
I said I was a writer, my soul was all on fire,
He looked at me an' said, 'you are a liar.'
'Son, It's faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, and more money! '
Well, I was disillusioned if I say the least,
I grabbed him by the collar and jerked him to his feet,
There was something cold and shiny layin' by my head,
So I started to believe the things he said.
Well, my poet days are over and I'm back to being me,
As I enjoy the peace and comfort of reality.
If my boy ever asks me what it is that I have learnt,
I think that I will readily affirm:
'Son, it's faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, and more money! '
Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/tom_t_hall/faster_horses.html