Ive Got No Use For The Women chords by Marty Robbins

I've Got No Use For The Women:Marty Robbins.
Album - More Gunfighter Ballads And Trail Songs -
#21 on BB Hot Country on COLUMBIA Records in
1960.

INTRO: Ab Eb Bb Eb

#1.
Cm  Eb     Ab   Eb          Ab
I've got no use for the women, a true one may seldom
  Eb
be found.
    Ab        Eb
They'll use a man for his money, when it's gone they'll
     Bb
turn him down.
    Eb    Ab   Eb   Ab
They're all alike at the bottom, selfish and grasping
  Eb
for all.
    Ab      Eb           Bb
They'll stay by a man when he's winning, and laugh in
         Eb
his face when he falls.

#2.
       Ab      Eb    Ab
My pal was an honest young puncher, honest and upright
  Eb
and true.
    Ab            Eb
Til he turned to a gun shooting gambler on account of a
      Bb
girl named Lou.
Cm  Eb      Ab   Eb      Ab
They fell in with evil companions, the kind they are
      Eb
better off dead.
    Ab          Eb     Bb
When a gambler insulted her picture, he filled him full
  Eb
of lead.

#3.
        Ab       Eb          Ab
All through the long night they trailed him, through mesquite
     Eb
and thick chaparral.
 Ab             Eb              Bb
I couldn't help think of that woman, as I saw him pitch and fall.
Bb Eb       Ab      Eb       Ab
If she'd been the pal that she should have, he might have been
     Eb
raising a son.
 Ab            Eb     Bb        Eb
Instead of out there on the prairie, to die by a Ranger's gun.

#4.
       Ab      Eb      Ab
Death's sharp sting did not trouble, his chances for life were
  Eb
too slim.
        Ab     Eb            Bb
Where they were putting his body was all that worried him.
  Eb     Ab     Eb     Ab
He lifted his head on his elbow, the blood from his wound
    Eb
flowed red.
  Ab              Eb      Bb
He gazed at his friends gathered round him, he looked up at
      Eb
them and he said.

#5.
    Ab     Eb         Ab
Bury me out on the prairie, where the coyotes can howl o'er
  Eb
my grave.
Ab         Eb                   Bb
Bury me out on the prairie, but from them my bones please save.
Eb   Ab   Eb    Ab         Eb
Wrap me up in a blanket, bury me deep in the ground.
Ab         Eb     Bb       Eb
Cover me over with boulders of granite big and round.

#6.
       Ab     Eb         Ab
We buried him out on the prairie, where the coyotes can howl
     Eb
o'er his grave.
  Ab      Eb               Bb
His soul is now a-resting from the unkind cut she gave.
Cm Eb      Ab  Eb       Ab
And many another young puncher, as he rides past the pile
  Eb
of stones.
 Ab         Eb     Bb            Eb
Recalls some similar woman, and thinks of his mouldering bones.



A sixties smash from Kraziekhat.