Rodeo Days

New hats come out at rodeo time, 
On heads that aren't usually mussed.
You see 'em on guys with hunert dollar ties
And pants that have been freshly pressed.

Hats are for heads with a cowlick or two
And a lump from a fall on the ground.
But at Rodeo time, without reason or rhyme, 
New hats are all over town.

Guys with big buckles at Rodeo time
May never have ridden the beast.
It's more likely the steer, that they've been most near, 
Was battered and fried at a feast.

A prize winning buckle of silver and gold
With a name engraved on the back,
Ought to be something sacred; reserved for the best.  
Not an item bought right off the rack.

I saw a young man wearing chaps at the mall 
And I knew it was Rodeo time.
It isn't the color or even the fir, 
But the pricetag on the butt's what I mind.

A good pair of bat wings have graced many a thigh 
Of a cowhand who rides on the range.
But they wouldn't be red or a polyester blend, 
And that's what makes Rodeo strange.

And then there's the boots with the tips so pointy, 
They probably merge all the toes.
But it serves that guy right for wearin' boots so tight, 
'cause Rodeo's as far west as he goes.

Real men wear boots and a few ladies too, 
It's the footwear of choice across Texas.
But never with polish to a high glossy shine 
And never while drivin' a Lexxus.

I don't want to sound like I'm knockin' the people 
That you see during our Rodeo.
Cause without all those tinhorns and the cash that they spend, The scholarship funds would be low.

But don't get me started on the spurs that don't jingle 
And a harmonica that nobody plays.
It's enough of a mystery to make any Texan, 
Stay home during Rodeo Days.


Copyright - 2001, Larry Thompson