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The Hooker

 

See also: The Hooker (Early Version)


Am E Am E Am Am Where do you go at night? E Am Where do you go at night? Wrapped in your cheap cologne, E Am E Where do you go at night? Am E Am Down to the pit with the stinking air, E Am And the smell of the sweat and the death is there. E Am I dance for a dollar and I dance for a dime, E Am Till their eyes are begging and their pockets are mine. C Am I pick a body and I name my fee; C Am I take their money and they take me. E Am E That's where I go at night. Am That's where I go at night. F Don't point your fingers, E Say your prayers at me! F The truth is hard but I'm gonna tell it, E Ah, there's a whole lot of ways to sell it! Am E Am E Am

How do you spend your days?
How do you spend your days?
When you can sleep no more,
How do you spend your days?

I rise at four in the afternoon.
I take a match and the kitchen spoon.
I wrap my arm in an old necktie,
And I find religion on the very first try.
I wash my face and comb my hair.
My looks are going but I just don't care.
That's how I spend my days.
That's how I spend my days.

Don't point your fingers,
Say your prayers at me!
The truth is hard but I'm gonna tell it,
Ah, there's a whole lot of ways to sell it!

Where do you find your love?
Where do you find your love?
Where do you run to him?
Where do you find your love?

I find my love in an old hotel,
He's mean and wicked and he knows me well.
He takes my body, takes my mind,
Takes my money and he beats me blind.
He says he'll help me but he won't say when,
Sends me walking on the streets again.
That's where I find my love.
That's where I find my love!

Don't point your fingers,
Say your prayers at me!
The truth is hard but I'm gonna tell it,
Ah, there's a whole lot of ways to sell it!

Then, how will you spend your life?
How will you spend your life?
While ladies play at cards,
How will you spend your life?

Lying in a circle of velvet rooms.
Dying in six inch carpeted tombs.
Hiding in the gutter with the aching pains.
Trading the years for the aching veins.
Dying at last when the tricks are few
When I can't get action from a john like you, ah!
That's how I'll spend my life.
That's how I'll spend my life!

Don't point your fingers,
Say your prayers at me!
The truth is hard but I'm gonna tell it!
Ah, there's a whole lot of ways to sell it!

(Words and music by Tom Paxton, 1967)

Notes: Thanks to Boot Leg and Florian Hoepfel for pointing out that the early version of this song, from May 1967, has completely different chords, though the lyrics are very much the same.


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