“Careful there Son”, said my pard with a grin
"That stuff he just poured you ain’t whisky or gin
It ain’t made from potatoes and it ain’t western rye
It’s blanco Tequila, the best you can buy"
You may turn your nose up ‘cause you’ve had it before
On that trip with your buddies back in June, Ninety-four
But that stuff that you had in that dark tourist bar
Sure ain’t what the old clever Patrons drink by far
I did turn my nose up at the thought of Tequila
My experience told me that stuff would near kill ya
“You’re right. I won’t drink it!”, and I pushed it away
“You misunderstood Pard,”, I then heard him say.
“When I said to be careful, I meant it for sure,
But I meant you might catch what just ain’t got no cure”
Well I’ll just call his bluff then and show him who’s boss
So I picked the glass up and prepared for a toss
“Whoa. Slow down there Amigo”, he cautioned me then
“That’s a drink to be savored, not gulped down there Slim”
“Just hold on to yore horses. Take a minute or two.
Don’t gulp like a frat boy who don’t know what to do”
So I did as he said. Closed my eyes, took a sniff
“This is pointless”, I thought. “Booze is booze. What’s the diff?”
Then suddenly, with my eyes closed to the light
I somehow beheld quite a marvelous sight
A long stretch of desert and a sunrise bright red
The Vaqueros approached driving ponies ahead
I sat on the veranda on the ranch of my friend
And I smelled the agave and warm desert wind
As I raised the glass slowly to my lips in the sun
I could hear a stream laughing as it made its fast run
I could hear la reata as it sang through the air
I could feel that warm wind on my skin…in my hair
With a start then I opened my eyes in the bar
My pard sat there smiling. He knew I’d gone far
“Now how did that happen? What do you say?"
He smiled, “It effects a few fellers that way”
I had no idea! Now everything’s changed
I feel like my drinkin has been re-arranged!
“I warned you”, he said. That was top shelf you had.
It’s a whole different story there now, ain’t it lad?”
Now you’ll try all the others and there’s quite a bit more
You can’t taste them all ‘fore you die that’s for shore
You’ll want a new room where your planning to hoard ‘em
But the bad news Amigo is that you can’t afford ‘em
