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 inwards from a-hangin' on a horse
He was an old philosopher, of course

He 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 knew I had to ask him 'bout the mysteries of life
He spit between his boots and he replied:

It's faster horses
Younger women
Older whiskey
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 of sayin' prosperity
And buffalo chips is all it means to me.

I told him I was a poet; I was searchin' for the truth
I do not care for horses, whiskey, women or the loot
I told him I was a writer; my soul was all afire
He looked at me and said "You are a liar."

It's faster horses
Younger women
Older whiskey
More money

Well, I was disillusioned, if I may say the least
I grabbed him by the collar and I jerked him to his feet
There was something cold and shiny a-layin' by my head
So I started to believe the things he said.

Now my poet days are over, and I'm back to bein' 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
More money