Lyrics:
You're a bronc' bustin' man by the looks of your clothes." "You guessed me right, and a good one," I claim, "Do you happen to have ay bad ones
Last night we rode our broncs in Seattle, Me and bill packed the car in the pourin' rain. Witch and john were at the beer stand, gettin' sprung.
Down a one lane road there's a dusty fairground Where I learned the bronc trade and I fell in love With a blue eyed twister and her smoky whisper
See that cowboy at the bar The one at the end with all the scars He got stomped by the meanest bronc in Santa Fe But if he looks a little down
prime And I long for them younger days When bad bronc's made good cowboys And rough waters calmed a sea faring man And cheap whiskey yeah it led to rich
Words Paul Zarzyski/ Music W. Gustafson (Bucking Horse Moon Music /Two Medicine Music, BMI) Saddle broncs and sagebrush A buckskin called Gold
fast Me with my guitar and him with his saddle Tryin' to out do the rest I sang my heart out and he rides them broncs now And that's what me
I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time Out of a job, not earnin' a dime A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose You're a bronc fighter
I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time Out of a job, not earnin' a dime A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose You're a bronc fighter
Folks used to think that I could ride any bronc or bull alive Maybe in my younger days I could But now I'm slowin' down a bit friends tell me that I
with my guitar and him with his saddle Tryin' to out do the rest I sang my heart out And he rides them broncs now And that's what me and Billy do best
I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time Out of a job, not earnin' a dime A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose You're a bronc fighter
I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time Out of a job, not earnin' a dime A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose You're a bronc fighter
And if you need my help then come along Cause I've been going too long to be alone All the rank broncs and the steers Can't find my way past beers And I
the strays that ain't been roped All the broncs that ain't been broke For all the west that ain't been won yet There's still a few cowboys left There's still
at work rain or shine A day off is preparation He ain't wasting any time He's True Grit and Lonesome Dove Bustin' broncs and ranch rodeos A staple
your spitting black Guide the path of split toe track of cattle They always seem to know the way cnd it was cowboy killers every single one The broncs
And he's mighty hard to ride And on a saddle bronc that's High and Mighty If he can't buck you off, you've learned to ride Three years spent sent out
bucked off a bronc, kicked up and stomped Face down on the ground I'd rather be broken and bruised Rather be black and blue 'Cause there ain't nothin'
I could ride em all the bulls and the broncs knew I was boss But the ride that woman took me on broke a whole lot more than this old cowboy's bones
I was hanging round town, just spending my time Being out of a job and not earning a dime A fellow walks up and he says, "I suppose You're a bronc
I've rode lots of horses and I've won a few shows Ridin' broncs at the big old rodeos But the dang-dest contraption that I've ever seen Is that
Braided rope saddle soap rosin for his riggin' A young man dreams of growing up to ride Buckin' broncs Brahma bulls is just some wishful thinkin'
The stubble of his beard showed flex of gray His limp was severe cause a leg had been torn by a bronc in his rodeo days He hung round the chutes while we waited
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