Thingy

I gave my money to a two-bit whore
She kept me warm for an hour or more
Then after she left, I fell on the floor
And dreamed of my life the way it was before
The way it was
I bet my money on a two-bit horse
He broke my heart around the course
And after the race, we shot him, of course
And fed him to the dogs
'Cause that's what dead horses are for
Dead horses are for
Dead horses are
Dead horses are for