Stumble to the bathroom, up well before the sun-
Wash your face, and brush your teeth, you know you’ve got to run
You dress and gulp your coffee, it’s hot! You make a face-
Load your clothes, and start the truck, you’re back out in the race.
Back out on the highway, back out on the go-
Sixty shows a season, they call it “Rodeo”
Broken bones and bruises, hot checks, bills over due-
Your family a’ wondering..just what’s come over you.
Houston is the big one, from there to San Antone-
No one to share expenses, you’d rather go alone...
You’ve had a dozen offers, I guess they wonder, “Why”?
I guess it’s ‘cause I need no one to watch me sit and cry.
Cry about my aches and pains, cry about the spills-
Cry about the “turn out” fees, about my fading skills.
Cry about the long, hard miles, the nights I’ve spent alone
Cry about the youth I’ve lost, and wonder where it’s gone.
My children call me Daddy, but seldom see my face-
The way I treat my family, I know is a disgrace...
My wife’s still waiting faithfully, but deep within her eyes-
I see the doubts a building, that she just cannot disguise.
I hobble in the morning, the aching joints sure throb-
My pockets would be fuller, If I’d just get a job....
But life out on the circuit is the only one I know-
The only thing I want to do is ride the rodeo. .