When he was a boy dreamed of bein' a man Probably dreamed every thing that a young boy can He's a lover a fighter a saddle bronc rider an all around hell of a hand And the spot lights on the sawdust that shines in his brain And his dreams are the bones in his soul And there's rivers of dance halls and wild red eyeballs on the road to the big rodeo
Well the chutes are all loaded the riggins are set Lord the cowboy's ready to ride Well it's pull down his hat and he spit out his chew There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight The horse in chute eight he's a kickin' the gate Lord he's big and he's hard and he's crazy And the chute boss is a hollerin' Come on boys get on 'em I'm commencin' to think you're all lazy And the spot lights on the sawdust...
With his spurs in his shoulders the horse comes unglued It's like ridin' some kind of explosion And the bronc he starts spinnin' the cowboy's a grinnin' Doin' fine there in all the commotion The crowd's on its feet the whistle she blows And the pickup men rush to his side As they pull him away he hears one of 'em say Looks to me like a winnin' ride And the spot lights on the sawdust that shines in his brain And his dreams are the bones in his soul And it's all comin' true right in front of his eyes Cause he's the feller who won the big rodeoTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
