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You Were A Good Hand by Long Haul Paul
You Were A Good Hand
Tuning: E A D G B E
[Intro]
|Am |F |C |G |Am |F |C |G |Am
You were a good hand
[Verse 1]
F C
Now your darkest days draw hard upon you
G Am
Aand accuse you to your face
F C
For the youth lying silent, squandered
G Am
In the devil’s cold embrace.
Dm Am
All your friends , they tried to warn you
F C G
While your mama meekly pled,
Dm Am
Though a wandering soul lies empty
G Am
But for the passion that it is fed.
[Verse 2]
F C
Still they say you were a good hand,
G Am
You paid your dues just to run on time,
F C
’Til one day you just turned eighty
G Am
While still a man of thirty nine,
Dm Am
But it wasn’t for the money,
F C G
No it wasn’t for the ride.
Dm Am
’Twas just to hear twin turbos howling
G Am
Cross the clear Santa Rosa sky.
[Verse 3]
F C
With that little brown bottle
G Am
And a toothpick ‘neath your tongue,
F C
Laying heavy on the throttle,
G Am
This was to be your final run,
Dm Am
‘Cause yonder o’er the next horizon
F C G
She awaits you dressed in lace,
Dm Am
But another’s arms will hold her,
G Am
Never again you’ll see her face.
[Verse 4]
F C
You loaded fats out to Shakey,
G Am
Brought back feeders from the San Joaquin,
F C
Teamed with an old hand out of Barstow,
G Am
Girl name of Crystal Methamphetamine.
Dm Am
You were Eastbound, overloaded,
F C G
Three miles out of the Dalhart shed,
Dm Am
When your heart simply exploded,
G Am
Could you even pray before the found you dead.
[Instrumental]
F C G Am
F C G Am
[Verse 5]
F C
Still they say you were a good hand,
G Am
You held ‘er upright not a head was lost
F C
Though the feed lot they fined your boss man
G Am
For the late truck and the weight they lost.
Dm Am
And it wasn’t for the money,
F C G
Wasn’t for some white trash dream,
Dm Am
‘Twas just to see the glass in the blacktop
G Am
Shine like sequins down a Bayou stream.
[Outro]
F C
There’s a road they call the beeline
G Am
And it’s US Highway 54.
F C
’Bout an hour outa’ Nara Visa
G Am
Where the flatlands they start to roll,
Dm Am
There the nights grow deathly quiet,
F C G
Till you meet a blast of wind,
Dm Am
Don’t be troubled, that’s just some drover
G Am
Racing to the home he’ll never see again.
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