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The Face On The Barroom Floor: acordes por
Hank Snow
Hank Snow

N/A•
Verse 1
C


'Twas a balmy summer evening
Am

and a goodly crowd was there
F

Which well- nigh filled Joe's barroom
Bb

on the corner of the square
C

And as songs and witty stories
Am

came through the open door
C
F

A vagabond crept slowly in and posed

upon the floor.

"Where did it come from?" Someone
C

said. "The wind has blown it in?"
Am

"What does it want?" an other cried,
C

"Some whiskey, rum or gin?"

"Here, Toby, seek him,
Bb

if your stomach's equal to the work!"
C

"I wouldn't touch him with a fork,

why, he's as filthy as a Turk."

This badinage the poor wretch took

with stoical good grace

In fact, he smiled as though he thought

he'd struck the proper place

"Come, boys, I know there's kindly
F

hearts among so good a crowd
Bb

Why, to be in such good company
Gm
C

would make a deacon proud."

"Give me a drink - that's what I want - I'm out of funds,
F

you know

When I had cash to treat the gang,
C

this hand was never slow
Am

What? You laugh as tho' you thought

this pocket never held a sou
C

Why, I was fixed as well, my boys,
Bb

as anyone of you."
C

"There, thanks - that's braced me

nicely - God bless you one and all

Next time I pass this good saloon,

I'll make another call

Give you a song? No,

I can't do that - my singing days are past
F

My voice is cracked and my throat's worn
Bb

out and my lungs are going fast.
C

"Say, Give me another whiskey and

I'll tell you what I'll do
F

I'll tell you a funny story and a fact I promise,

too
Bb

That I was ever a decent man, not
F
C

a one of you would think
Am

But, I was some four of five years back - say,
C

give us another drink.

"Fill her up, Joe,
Bb

I want to put some life into my frame
C

Such little drinks, to a bum like me,

are miserably tame

Five fingers - there,

that's the scheme - and corkin' whisky, too

Well, here's luck, boys; and landlord,

my best regards to you.
F

"You've treated me pretty kindly

and I'd like to tell you how
Bb

I came to be the dirty sot
C

you see before you now

As I told you once, I was a man with a muscle,
F

frame and health

And, but for a blunder,

ought to have made considerable wealth.
C

"I was a painter - not one that daubed
Am

on bricks and wood
C

But an artist and for my age,
Bb

was rated pretty good
F

I worked hard at my canvas an
C

d I was bidding fair to rise

'Coz gradually I saw the star of fame

before my eyes.

"I made a picture perhaps you've seen,

'tis called the 'CHASE OF FAME'
Ab
C

It brought me fifteen hundred pounds
F

and added to my name
Bb

And then I met a woman - now

comes the funny part
C

With eyes that petrified my brain and sunk

into my heart.
F

"Why don't you laugh? it's funny

that the vagabond you see

Could ever love a woman and expect
C

her love for me
Am

But 'twas so, and for a month or two,

her smiles were freely given
C

And when her loving lips touched mine
Bb

it car ried me to heaven.
C

"Boys, did you ever see a girl for whom

your soul you'd give

With a form like the Milo Venus,

too beautiful to live

With eyes like the purest of diamonds

and a wealth of chestnut hair?

If so, 'twas she,
F
Bb

for there never was another half so fair.

"I was working on a portrait one
C

af ternoon in May

Of a fair- haired boy, a friend of mine,
F

who lived across the way

And Madeline admired

it and much to my surprise
C

Said she'd like to know the man
Am

that had such dreamy eyes.
C

"It didn't take long to know him and
Bb

before the month had flown
Am

My friend had stole my darlin'
C

and I was left alone
Am

And ere a year of misery had passed
C

above my head

The jewel that I had treasured so,

had tarnished and was dead.

"That's why I took to drink,
F

boys - why, I never saw you smile

I thought you'd be amused
Bb

and laughing all the while
C

Why, what's the matter - friend?

There's a teardrop in your eye
F

Come, laugh like me; why 'tis only

babes and women that would cry.
C

"Say, boys, if you'd give me just another whiskey,

I'll really be glad
Am

And I'll draw right here a picture
C

of the face that drove me mad
Bb

Give me that piece of chalk with which
C

you mark the baseball score

And you shall see the lovely Madeline
F
C

upon the barroom floor."
Am

Another drink and with chalk in hand

the vagabond began
C

To sketch a face that well might

buy the soul of any man
F

And then as he placed another lock

upon the shapely head
Bb

With a fearful shriek,
C
Am
C

he leaped and fell across the picture - dead.
Outro 1
F
C

Am
C
Bb

C

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