Tough Little Sh*t

I've made many friends,
In the rodeo game,
Some have gone pro,
And some have gone lame.

Who am I kiddin',
They've all been so battered,
I guess all but one,
Fall under the latter.

My old buddy Randy,
Climbed up on his bull,
And took some slack,
For usin' a stool.

He ain't to say short,
But he dang sure ain't tall,
Swore he'd do better this spring,
Than he did late last fall.

His bull shot out of that,
Squeeze chute lookin' gate,
And he screamed,
"I swear I'll start a new slate!"

The bull tossed him high,
Up into the air,
But just where he landed,
Wasn't quite clear.

For the dust he'd stirred up,
Became a dense haze,
We like never to have found him,
In that cattle pipe maze.

He lay perfectly still,
In a sawdust heap,
I had just said I'd miss him,
When he jumped to his feet.

He swiped off his pants,
And threw 'Doc' to the side,
He said, "Load him up boys,
That's a dadgum re-ride."


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