Full Circle

[cow pollinater]

I left myself
somewhere along the way
only now
do I see the need
for fast horses
to chase boyhood dreams

 

[Nesikep]

He was an old-time cowboy, don't you understand his eyes were sharp as razor blades his face was leather tan his toes were pointed inward from a-hangin' on a horse he was an old philosopher, of
He was so thin i swear you could have used him for a whip he had to drink a beer to keep his britches 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 stains he said, "it don't do men no good to pray for peace and rain. peace and rain is just a way to say 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' he said, "you are a liar."
"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 i 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 learned i think that i will readily affirm

"it's faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, and more money"

 

[Shanghai]

A job in the city and a three piece suit may disguise
But he can't hide what's in his eyes

A cowboy at heart he will always be
The pressures of life keep the dreams tucked away where no one can see

But the cowboy will once again be free
Stepping in the stirrup with an old creaking knee


Cold early morning feeling frisky as a yearling stud colt
Breaking in two as you get a holt


Blowing a stirrup but still spurring and raking
High wide and handsome is what their saying

 

[hurleyjd]

He was an old-time cowboy, don't you understand his eyes were sharp as razor blades his face was leather tan his toes were pointed inward from a-hangin' on a horse he was an old philosopher, of
He was so thin i swear you could have used him for a whip he had to drink a beer to keep his britches 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 stains he said, "it don't do men no good to pray for peace and rain. peace and rain is just a way to say 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' he said, "you are a liar."
"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 i 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 learned i think that i will readily affirm

"it's faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, and more money"

Tom T. Hall

 

[Nesikep]

Sure is... I've grown very fond of his music in the last while, I didn't know much about him, but he's an excellent storyteller. He's the guy who sings about being flat broke, and you can tell he's been there!

 

[Ouachita]

I left myself
somewhere along the way
only now
do I see the need
for fast horses
to chase boyhood dreams

That was ironic timing. I can relate to that wonderment.
I enjoy reading your post like this one.

 

[Nesikep]

Here's one that very much reminds me of my friend who raises hogs... He works out of town, and his wife doesn't like animals.. He'll also work through any illness



I met him in a hospital about a year ago
And why I still remember him, I guess I'll never know
He'd lie there and cry out in a medicated fog
Here I am in this dang bed and who's gonna feed them hogs?

Four hundred hogs, they just standin' out there
My wife can't feed 'em and my neighbors don't care
They can't get out and roam around like my old huntin' dogs
Here I am in this dang bed and who's gonna feed them hogs?

His face was lean and his hands were rough
His way was hogs and his nature was tough
His doctors tried to tell him that he may not live at all
But all he ever talked about was who's gonna feed them hogs

Four hundred hogs, they just standin' out there
My wife can't feed 'em and my neighbors don't care
They can't get out and roam around like my old huntin' dogs
Here I am in this dang bed and who's gonna feed them hogs?

Four hundred hogs comes to eight hundred hams
And that's a lot of money for a hog-raisin' man
Four hundred hogs comes to sixteen hundred feet
The market's up and there are people a-waitin' on that meat

Well, the doctors say they do not know what saved the man from death
But in a few days he put on his overalls and he left
That's all there is to this small song but waitress, 'fore you leave
Would you bring me some coffee and a hot ham sandwich, please?

Four hundred hogs they just standing out there
His wife couldn't feed 'em and his neighbors didn't care
They couldn't get out and roam around like his old huntin' dogs
There he was in this dang bed and who's gonna feed them hogs?

 

[cow pollinater]

I left myself
somewhere along the way
only now
do I see the need
for fast horses
to chase boyhood dreams

That was ironic timing. I can relate to that wonderment.
I enjoy reading your post like this one.

Thanks. Glad someone could relate to it.

 

[cow pollinater]

A job in the city and a three piece suit may disguise
But he can't hide what's in his eyes

A cowboy at heart he will always be
The pressures of life keep the dreams tucked away where no one can see

But the cowboy will once again be free
Stepping in the stirrup with an old creaking knee


Cold early morning feeling frisky as a yearling stud colt
Breaking in two as you get a holt


Blowing a stirrup but still spurring and raking
High wide and handsome is what their saying

Well done.

 

[HDRider]

Thanks CP - That was very much appreciated.

 

[hurleyjd]

How about this one. Also here is a website that has lyrics to all of Tom T Hall's songs. http://www.metrolyrics.com/tom-t-hall-lyrics.html

How old do you think I am he said I said well I didn't know
He said I turned sixty five about eleven months ago
I was sittin' in Miami pourin' blended whiskey down
When this old grey black gentleman was cleanin' up the lounge
There wasn't anyone around 'cept this old man and me
The guy who ran the bar was watching Ironsides on TV
Uninvited he sat down and opened up his mind
On old dogs and children and watermelon wine
Ever had a drink of watermelon wine he asked
He told me all about it though I didn't answer back
Ain't but three things in this world that's worth a solitary dime
But old dogs and children and watermelon wine
He said women think about theyselves when menfolk ain't around
And friends are hard to find when they discover that you're down
He said I tried it all when I was young and in my natural prime
Now it's old dogs and children and watermelon wine
Old dogs care about you even when you make mistakes
God bless little children while they're still too young to hate
When he moved away I found my pen and copied down that line
'Bout old dogs and children and watermelon wine

[ harmonica ]

I had to catch a plane up to Atlanta that next day
As I left for my room I saw him pickin' up my change
That night I dreamed in peaceful sleep of shady summertime
Of old dogs and children and watermelon wine

 

[branguscowgirl]

Really like that one Hurley!

 

[Balin' Wire]

Tom. T. Hall was a real story teller. So was Ray Stevens and Wille Nelson. I don't think we have story tellers any more just screamers and pop star re-treads that make a little money doing what they call Country music. PS.. Alan Jackson can get close every once in a while.

 

[Rafter S]

Tom. T. Hall was a real story teller.

He sure was.

"I like beer. It makes me a jolly good fellow. I like beer. It helps me unwind and sometimes it makes me feel mellow."