When I go to a rodeo, I'm never sure how to feel. My mouth is just open, full of dirt and whisper-swearing. PC thinking gets you no where at a rodeo. Here's a good rodeo tune by one of my favorites: "the rodeo's over, the folks have gone home and the cowboys are all down …
When I go to a rodeo, I’m never sure how to feel. My mouth is just open, full of dirt and whisper-swearing. PC thinking gets you no where at a rodeo.
Here’s a good rodeo tune by one of my favorites:
“the rodeo’s over, the folks have gone home
and the cowboys are all down the road
well boys, she was a good un, we kicked a hole in the sky
and even the rank ones got rode
it was as wild as they come and it was almighty western
and none of us thought it would end
but finish it did, with a bang and a whisper
and now i must leave you my friend
we may do it again in some future season
but somehow it won’t be the same
cuz our draws will be different and our injuries healed
and it’s likely the weather will change
so take from the lessons and be glad for the memories
of the days that we rode in the sun
for after today, there’ll be no man can claim
that we didn’t have us a good run
so burn all the blankets and dry all the tears
we can always go further out west
and i’ll meet you out there in the vastness somewhere
i swear it but first i must rest.”
— Corb Lund with Ian Tyson.
Lyrics by the same Albertan who wrote these fine words about a mare: “She won’t come to me. She won’t come to me. She won’t come to anyone who’s frightened to be free.”
And I think of Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Sit loosely in the saddle of life.”
