Lyle Lovett – Ballad Of The Snow Leopard And The Tanqueray Cowboy (Guitar)

D                      C
  Comfort me, said she, with your conversation,

         Bm                Bb                  D
With the cocktails and the candlelight in your eyes.

D                         C
  It's funny how we hunger for some inspiration,

    Bm                   Bb          D
And everything else that money won't buy.

         Bm              A                G
Men have lied, many good girls have gone astray

                       D                            A
Just to hear the gypsy play one more lilting cowboy tune,

           Bm                     A               G
And as the rivers run dry and the mountains blow away,

                                 D                               A    G
They sing of lovers and how they lay beneath this crazy frontier moon.

D                       C
  I ain't no golden boy, I ain't no Grecian dancer,

      Bm                   Bb              D
And I ain't no loudmouthed cowboy from the West.

D                        C
  I'm not the kind of man with all the answers,

      Bm              Bb                 D
But I surely know the songs that suit me best.

D A    Bm              A               G
   But lately I've had something on my mind.

                              D                           A
It's growing stronger all the time, calling out when I'm alone,

          Bm           A                 G
But I'm a poet and I'm bound to walk the line

                           D                                    A   G
Between the real and the sublime, and give the muses back their own.

                               C
It's a penny for your thoughts. It's a dollar for your kisses.

Bm                  Bb       D    D
  Keep a running tab  on the time, 'cause what I've got the most of

C                         Bm                 Bb           D
  Is what she misses. The clock is hers, the hourglass is mine,

            Bm           A             G
But I'm her lover, not a man bent on revenge,

                        D                         A
Hanging out here on the fringe of my native borderlands,

             Bm                 A                 G
Counting the days the sun shone golden across her head,

                                  D
Lying on the banks of the bayou's edge,

                                A        D
Kicking up some Southeast Texas sand. Sand.

D                      C
  Comfort me, said she, with your conversation,

         Bm                Bb                  D
With the cocktails and the candlelight in your eyes.

D                         C
  It's funny how we hunger for some inspiration,

    Bm                   Bb               D
And everything else that money just won't buy.

    Bm                   Bb               D
And everything else that money just won't buy.

    Bm                   Bb                  D  C  Bm Bb D
And everything else that money just won't...