| Let’s have a hand for that young cowboy
|
| And wish him better luck next time
|
| And hope we see him up in Fargo
|
| Or somewhere farther down the line
|
| This time he sure drew a bad one
|
| One that nobody could ride
|
| But by the way he pulled his hat on
|
| You knew he’d be there for the fight
|
| And it’s the classic contradiction
|
| The unavoidable affliction
|
| Well it don’t take much to predict son
|
| The way it always goes
|
| One day she’ll say she loves you
|
| And the next she’ll be tired of you
|
| And push’ll always come to shove you
|
| On that midnight rodeo
|
| He almost made it to the buzzer
|
| Somehow he gave up in the end
|
| He put one hand around the other
|
| And let that pickup man on in
|
| And it was his last chance to ride it
|
| And now he’ll have to move along
|
| But he knows back in his mind that
|
| He won’t be away for long
|
| And it’s the classic contradiction
|
| It’s the unavoidable affliction
|
| It don’t take much to predict son
|
| The way it always goes
|
| Because one day she’ll say she loves you
|
| And the next she’ll be tired of you
|
| And push’ll always come to shove you
|
| On that midnight rodeo
|
| So let’s have a hand for that young cowboy
|
| And wish him better luck next time
|
| And hope we see him up in Fargo
|
| Or somewhere farther down the line |