Rodeo,
Your a part of America
The outdoor dream, that every youngster dreams
And if i could have one wish,
My only prayer would be
DON'T LET THE COWBOY BE A DYIN' BREED
Red Steagall.
COWBOY IS HIS NAME
There's a hundred years of history
And a hundred before that.
All gathered in the thinkin'
Goin' on beneath his hat.
The cold flame burns within' him
'Till his skins as cold as ice
And the dues he paid to get here
Are worth every sacrifice.
All the miles spent sleepy drivin'
All the money down the drain,
All the "if I's" and "nearly's",
All the bandages and pain.
All the femal tears left dryin',
All the fever and the fight,
Are just a small downpayment,
On the ride he'll make tonight.
It's guts and love and glory,
One mortals shot at fame,
His legacy is RODEO,
And COWBOY is his name.
Baxter Black
THE COOK'S PHILOSOPHY
When you talk about cowboys
there¹s things ya need to know.
Some of them are mighty fast,
but some of them are slow.
Some of them are tall Œn thin
and some are kinda short.
Some are ridin¹ for the pay,
but some just for the sport.
When the Lord made them cowboys
He didn¹t have no mold.
Some come out young and sassy
and others come out old.
You may find a handsome one,
tho¹ most are sorta plain.
Some are smart, Œn that¹s a fact,
but some are near insane.
Some are up to greet the dawn
while some lay in the sack.
Whatever one has plenty
another¹s sure to lack.
They¹re unique, but at the end,
the Lord got in a rut.
Cause when ol¹ cookie calls Œem
they¹re all just one long gut.
GTBurton
There’s a Little cowboy in All of us
Hey daddy please help me, I sure need a hand
You see I’m saddle up, but my pony won’t stand
He’s backed in a corner and he’s kickin’ the wall
But since mom moved that toy box he’s a little too tall
With his boots on the wrong feet, his holster tied low
Saddlebag saddle, and a blanky bed roll
A little toy rifle he made from a broom
And in his mind he’s out drivin a herd towards the rail
Headed north out of Texas, on the old Chisolm Trail
I’d love to ride with him but that pony might bust
And there’s a Little cowboy, in all of us
I said son, where ya headed, he answered out west
Cause there’s word they need riders on the pony express
Hey I might be a scout dad, or a sheriff on TV
Any outfit could use, a top hand like me
Well I told him be careful, don’t tie hard and fast
Take a deep seat if your ridin into the past
He said I’ll be back by supper, bedtime the most
He grabbed the reins, pulled his hat down and waved adios
You know, as I step from his world, back into my own
I thought, we’re no different, he might be little and I’m grown
We both dream of places that neither one of us have ever been
Heck I’m 4 and 40, and I’m still playin pretend
And in his mind he’s out drivin a herd towards the rail
Headed north out of Texas, on the old Chisolm Trail
I’d love to go with him and kick up some dust
And there’s a Little cowboy, in all of us
Roy Robinson & Dan Roberts
It’s a fact that yer getting older
Man don’t it seem like the winters are colder
You get tired so easy and you can’t stand the heat
It’s just the old cowboy blues,
When you wear out your first pair of house shoes
You don’t get as much done, and work ain’t as much fun
As it used to be
Still you wanna ride with the boys when you hear that noise
I swear it sounds like thunder
When they ride off the hill and down through town
You can’t stand the thumb yer livin under
Cause there’s places out there, that you ain’t been
And you’ve heard about cattle that ain’t never been penned
The hardest part of all is layin there at night and wonderin
If you still can.
Don’t it scare ya that the rows are shorter
And your old starter, is startin harder
That’s just the old cowboy blues,
When you wear out your first pair of house shoes
You used to be afraid they wouldn’t buck,
Now your afraid they will
Roy Robinson
When G.L. said he wouldn't buck
I figured he would know
I needed one more pony in my string.
Now he wasn't very handsome
But I didn't have a choice
Cause I was only day working in the spring.
We's on the Wichita just south of Cedar Top
I's on the outside circle all alone
It was such a pretty mornin, I's takin in the sights
and I stopped to make myself a roll yer own.
So I hardly even noticed with the covy flushed and flew
To him it must've sounded like a gun.
I started grabbin leather as my makings blew away
He lined out through the cedars on the run.
We busted in the open, to the little sage brush flat
I figured I might as well enjoy the ride
So I ran my gut hooks in him and he squeeled just like a choat
From that time on, i never touched his hide.
I had a double hanful of those cotton braided reins
I've never know a horse this bad to buck.
If I could get in One More Lick, I'd miss the prickly pears
Guess I wasn't born with that much luck.
I tried to hit it runnin, but I must've tripped and fell
I landed where the pear was fairly thick
There weren't nothin round that clump for near a hundred yards
I only had to get in One More Lick.
The first thing that i thought about was walkin back to camp.
Just knew he'd run off steppin on my reins.
But, he was standin hip shod, soakin up the sun
and stood there as I nursed my aches and pains.
I didn't tell nobody, but i guess they must've known
I could hear'm snicker'n as I rode away.
Those spines had started festerin on my tender underside
I had to ride like that several days.
The wagon was at cedar top, I's headed into camp
I had'm in a gentle easy lope.
When I saw a wormy two year old a hide'n in the brush
I reigned'm in as I shook down my rope.
Now he's good at trackin cattle, but this two year old was fast
We'd loose him if he beat us to the trees.
So I ran my gut hooks in, and that sucker broke into
Next thing I know my head's between my knees.
Then G.L. came ridin up to see if I's okay
He said "Son, looks like you ran out of luck"
"I guess I should've warned ya, there's one thing that you should know"
"You hit him with them gut hooks, he will buck"
He said, "but don'w feel bad cause you got dumped,
He's pretty hard to ride", you ain't the first good cowboy that he's throwed.
Until you blew yer stirrup you's sitting pretty tight.
One More Lick, I think you'd a had him rode".
Well, I finally got the pickture
Left my spurs hangin in camp
That lesson was a fairly even trade.
Cuase LIFE is like that wringy bronc
And everyday I think, One Moore Lick, this suckers got'r made
Red Steagall
RIDIN’ FOR THE BRAND
His skin looked leather he walked with a limp,
Talked with a slow Texas drawl.
His knuckles were knotted and his right thumb was gone
Said a stud bit it off late last fall.
But we knew he was lying, we’d watched him dally it up.
It ain’t healthy to call him a liar,
It was Saturday night for the wagons went out
And he was settin our new kid on fire.
Now we’ve all heard his stories bout places he’s been
And we think that Jake’s kinda strange
He looked at me and said “I’m schoolin this boy
About the unwritten laws of the range.
And the kids was enthrawled kinda like in a trance
Jake sensed that he had a good grip,
So he straightened up, hitched his pants, took a drink of cold beer
Turned around with his hand on his hip.
And said, “Son, a mans brand is his own special mark
It says this is mine leave it alone.
If ya hire out to a man you ride for his brand
And protect it like it was you own.
Mr. Wagoner came here in 1903
This country was sage brush, misquite trees and sand
He carved him this ranch out of blood sweat and guts
Be proud that you ride for his brand
If yer hired to string barbed wire, build him a fence
It don’t matter if its four or five strands
Just remember, it was you that asked for the job
Don’t bitch when you ride for this brand
Cause Mr. Wagoner don’t take to complainers
He’ll fire one fore he can quit
If you don’t like our outfit head down the trail
And find a horse that yer saddle will fit
But if you get up early, catch your own broncs
Show the boss that yer makin a hand
Mr. Wagoner will be there to cover yer bets
As long as you ride for his brand”.
He said, “the summer I spent at the 6’s
There was a man at the ol’ tater place
Rode up on some hiders skinning a cow
Squared off with those scamps face to face
Now he could’ve rode off, and never looked back
But he wasn’t that kinda man
We found him at ash creek shot all to hell
Nocona Joe died for the brand”
Now we know he tells a windy or two
Like the one about loosin his thumb
And Nocona was killed in a bar in Fort Worth
With the demons in a bottle of rum
But I kept thinking bout what he had said
And the more of it I understand
The more I believe we’d be all better off
If more people would Ride For The Brand.
Red Steagall
ENJOY THE RIDE
I was six years old, my brother was ten
One luly day came runnin in
Seen the country fair at the edge of town
So of course, we headed on down
Well it took us an hour to walk that far
Carryin our fortunes in a mason jar
It was all pretty said a cheap county fair
With a few old rides but there was ponies there
The ponies stunk and the air was still
And that dusty circle behind the feiress wheel
This old guy smell’n of smoke and rum
Swung me up and said “get down on one.
Well I’d never rode a horse but I’d seen it done
Those cowboy movies made it look like fun
The old guy whispered a few soft words
Was the best advise I ever heard.
He said, “sit tall in the saddle, Hold yer head up high
Keep your eyes fixed where the trail meets the sky
And live like you ain’t afraid to die
And don’t be scared, just enjoy the ride.
I went up a kid with shakin hands
And I came down a full grown man
Its like he cast a voodoo spell
Things were different for me I could tell
Cause whenever trouble comes wanderin in
His rhyme would pop in my head again
And somehow I rode through the needles and nails
The brambles and thornes that life entails
And I know somewhere further down the road
I’ll come to the edge of the great unknown
There’ll stand a black horse, riderless
And I’ll wonder if I’m ready for this
But I’ll saddle him up and he’ll swish his tail
And I’ll tip my hat and bid farewell
And lift my song into the air
That I learned at that dusty fair
Sit tall in the saddle, hold yer head up high
Keep your eyes fixed where the trail meets the sky
And live like you ain’t afraid to die
And don’t be scared, just
ENJOY THE RIDE.
Chris Ledoux