To The Rodeo

Jump out of bed run a comb over my head, pull down my Stetson just like a real West-Texan, slide into a pair of Wrangler jeans eat some cold pork-n-beans, throw on my boots and spurs water the stock and feed the curs, kiss my gal for a little luck hop in the old pickup truck, fly out of town and put the hammer down, a Terry Allen tape in the deck and my mind's all set, past the end of the blacktop out to where the hardroad stops, there at the rodeo grounds is where I'm bound, gonna draw a good ride on some ornery old cowhide, I'll be burning up ropes and saddles cutting and roping those wild-n-wolly cattle, dust has surely replaced the blood in my veins 'cause when cut I only leave dirt stains; yea, I'm a bronc ridin' - mustang bustin' calf brandin' - cow ropin' son-of-the-West! a pure old-fashioned cowboy at his best - and that's why I'll always love to go down to the rodeo!