There's a rodeo in Montana where they come from miles around. Where they throw the hooligan and a bunch of beer cans. All over that little cow town from Friday night to Sunday afternoon.
Them bareback horses are the only thing. They make your back hurt they make your bell ring. They're hard on tailbones and they make your neck sore. But when it's all over you're craving some more.
I was six years old, my brother was ten. One July day came runnin' in. Seen a ferris wheel at the edge of town. So, of course, we headed on down. . Well, it took us an hour to walk that far.
It was dark and I was driving down a lonely Texas road. The night was hot and sleep pulled at my eyes. I was thinking 'bout the wild times and the women that I'd had.
He's got a broomstick horse called, Dynamite his very favorite friend. An old steed about four hands high that runs just like the wind. There's not an outlaw in the badlands that he can't apprehend.
I was waltzin' with my darlin' at the cattleman's ball. Lost in the music and her charms. I was glidin' around the dance floor. She felt so good in my arms.
He's got a split finger wrap. And his rope's pulled way too tight. He's got a lunatic smile. 'Cause he's really drawn deep tonight. . He's got a fever, fever, fever, fever.
I was sittin' in a bar-room one rainy afternoon. Tellin' stories about rodeo and listening to a tune. Rodeo starts tomorrow in this one horse town. So Bill took our names and put our entries down.
Now, I've got a pony, the fastest thing around,. . And of all the girls I've known she's the truest one I've found.. . Well, she'll cut 'em and she'll head 'em just the way you want 'em.
Hey, I'm a man, I'm a guy, I'm a dude. I'm a dose of double trouble if I get attitude. You can see I'm hard workin' by the sweat on my brow. If I don't know somethin' about it better bet I'll learn how.
Well he was pushing seven she was barely five. He rode up on his broomstick horse and said you wanna ride. His boots made a funny sound cause they were his daddy's size.
Along about eighteen twenty five. I left Tennessee very much alive. I never would have forded the Arkansas mud. If I hadn't been a riding on the Tennessee Stud.
Well I'll gladly take ten seconds in the saddle. For a lifetime of watching from the stands. [ guitar ]. His Stetson was faded and battered and worn. The stubble of his beard showed flex of gray.
Well, my car broke down it's in the ditch. Wish I was the son of someone rich. I'd throw hundred dollar bills out on the road. And I'd catch me a ride to the rodeo.
The nights get mighty lonesome out here on the road. Pickin' this old guitar a thousand miles from home. The songs tonight I'm singin', Lord, they nearly make me cry.
There's a silence on the prairie that a man can't help but feel. Shadows growin' longer now, nippin' at my heels. I know that soon that old four-lane that runs beneath my wheels.
We had our fill of old junk cars and unpaid bills. But our love was clear in the struggling years. Up against the world four young boys and our little girl.
Let me tell you a tale and a good one I own. Of an old caballo a strawberry roan. I was hangin' 'round town just a spendin' my time. Out of a job and not earnin' a dime.
We made camp along Red River. Watched the cattle as they bedded down. Back at the wagons, right after supper. We spread our bedrolls on the ground. . And me and Willie, we took the night guard.
Well, way out west where the wild wind blows. The eagle flies and the sage brush grows. Traditions are holding on you'll be glad to hear. They're being kept alive by the sons of the Pioneers.