He stood out in the Cheyenne area dust by the latch on chute number four The young cowboys were laughin' at him and at the out of date clothes that he wore Though his trophy buckle was old it told of the glory he surely had seen And the beard that showed neath his old John B was wirey silver sheen With a plug in his lip from his back pocket rip and his faded old denim jeans blue Where a halo show white like a moon in the night Was a hole where his snoozed worn through He spat in the dust and he bitterly cussed as the bull tried to tear down the chute Then he looked up at me with a gleam in his eye And he placed his old hand on my boot He said you'll ride this old bull on your worst ever day With your hind leg chained to a tree As I am made ready to concur the brute here's an old song my old man sang to me Go ridin' young cowboy go winnin' and goin' out boy Don't let him put you on the ground Go spur him young cowboy de fur him riding out boy Show 'em that your Oklahoma bound
Well I marked eighty points and I won me the round The fans in the stands went plum wild Well I could see my old daddy just a dancin' a jig Well I looked up to the Lord and I smiled I said thanks for my good arm and thanks for my luck And thanks that I'm still fit and young But thanks most of all for them old bulls that buck For my dad and the song that he sung Go ridin' young cowboy...
Well I've been down the road many miles since that day Things ain't changed much since I've begun I still think of my dad when I'm ropin' one up and I sing his song to my son Go ridin' young cowboy... Go ridin' young cowboy...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
