Words & Music by Tim Hus
Copyright Tim Hus Music 2006

You can see by the clothes that he’s wearing
That he’s a bronc rider by trade
Pockets full of dirt, snap buttons on his shirt
And his split-down boots are Tony Lama made
Greenback’s are the ante-up on the entry fee
And he’s worn a lot of leather off the tree

Chorus:
Saddle up on a saddle bronc ride kicking holes up in the sky
Sunfish, stand, and suck back to the right
You can’t get no higher than a buckin’ horse rider
with his hand on a hack-rein and buckles on his mind

Bareback and saddlebronc, draw and marking out
The Canada’s are headed North, the buckaroos headed South
Fourty-nine ain’t no line for those who ply the trade
Like devil’s rope and barbed wire – the two they are the same

There’s a silence behind the chutes that only he can hear
With the horse hair and the leather when all his thoughts are clear
And a long road and a short go never twice the same
And he rides the rank ones with his spurs up in the mane

Chorus

Instrumental

There’s a falcon on a fenceline and a coyote on the plains
Big cats up on the timberline and diamond backs in the sage
And the years and the miles and the wind carved the lines upon his face
And there’s a hand-laid buckin’ horse saddle in the cowboy’s hall of fame

Chorus