HARDER TIME (Gabe Zander/BMI) 2001

(slow honky-tonk beat)

      C             Em             F               C
Well, I was pushin' twenty, when I started sellin' weed;
                        G                   F
I'd been smokin' up for years; it'd done no wrong,
       C        Em              F              C
And my job at UPS just couldn't give me what I need,
                      G              C
So I wanted something new before too long.
                      Em           F                  C
Now, about the time I started, the times were slow as Hell,
                        G           F
But I managed to keep security just fine.
          C             Em                          F            C
Then when I got down on Main Street, things started going really well,
                       G                 C
Until posession with intent meant harder time.

(chorus):

    F                    G                   F                  C
So, gather, friends, and once again, please, won't you pass the bowl,
                       G                  C
And know we'll meet up somewhere down the road.


Now, the way we did things in my town; man, it wasn't like the Mob;
We helped each other out to keep up sales.
Yeah, we were all compadres; it was just another job;
We even kept each other out of jail.
Nothing could've put me in this mess that I got in,
If not for this girl, a so-called friend of mine.
She got busted with a quarter, and sold me out to save her skin,
And by now, posession with intent meant harder time.

(chorus)

(break)

Well, the judge showed no compassion; he was too conservative,
And decided I should go away for awhile,
And I wasn't long in Prison, before someone pulled a shiv,
And I got pinned down, execution style.
Now I'm buried on the hilltop overlookin' my hometown,
And if you look out from my grave, you just might find
That lonely stretch of Main Street that became my stomping ground,
Before posession with intent meant harder time.

(chorus)