Welcome To The Bullpen
Roany
Jim Liles
When ya go to the pen, with reatta in hand,
to sort one out for the day.
Youd be well advised, to think more than twice,
about which bronc, you might want to take.
The trick is to pick one, you think you can ride,
from morning till dusk every day.
Hell get you back home, without cactus and thorns,
and wont spook at the sight of a stray.
Theres a big buckskin mare, with nostrils all flared,
thats bound to last all through the day.
But Billys still crippled, from the day that he picked her,
said that mare bucked purt neer all day.
How bout that blue gelding, with the one wild eye,
he sure seems to be in great shape.
But then I hears tell, from Shorty and Bill,
that wild eye, sees things that aint there?
I see that new paint, came from the Bar Eight,
as good looking, as Ive ever seen.
Im not sure of the reason, no ones ever seen him,
he just showed up tied to the gate?
I spot me a keeper, all spotted and speckled,
looks like a strawberry roan.
His knees are all buckled, and touch in the middle,
as he stands there and lets out a groan.
Hes not very tall, not too far to fall,
if he did, just happen to slip.
Hes cow hocked and pin eared, and a little bit thin,
This bronc I thinks got it all.
The laughter dont matter, with Roany and I,
it dont hurt our self esteem.
No picking out cactus, or broncs jumping sideways,
Ole Roany and I make a team.
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