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I Got No Use For The Women
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Marty Robbins
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1
I've got no use for the women
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A true one may seldom be found
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They'll use a man for his money
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When it's gone they'll turn him down
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They're all alike at the bottom
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Selfish and grasping for all
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They'll stay by a man when he's winning
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And laugh in his face when he falls
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My pal was an honest young puncher
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Honest and upright and true
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Till he turned to a gun shooting gambler
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On account of a girl named Lou
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They fell in with evil companions
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The kind that are better off dead
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When a gambler insulted her picture
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He filled him full of lead
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Off in the long night they trailed him
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Through misquete and thick chapperal
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I couldn't help think of that woman
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As I saw him pitch and fall
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If she'd been the pal that she should have
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He might have been rasing a son
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Instead of out there on the prairie
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To die by a Ranger's gun
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Death's sharp sting did not trouble
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His chances for life were too slim
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Where they were putting his body
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Was all that worried him
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He lifted his head on his elbow
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The blood from his wound flowed red
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He gazed at his friends gathered round him
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He looked up at them and he said
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Bury me out on the prairie
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Where the coyotes can howl o'er my grave
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Bury me out on the prairie
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But from them, my bones please save
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Wrap me up in a blanket
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Bury me deep in the ground
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Cover me over with boulders
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Of granite, big and brown
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We buried him out on the prairie
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Where the coyotes can howl o'er his grave
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His soul is now a-resting
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Fron the unkind cut she gave
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And many another young puncher
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As he rides past the pile of stones
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Recalls some similar woman
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And thinks of his moulderin' bones
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