| Billy John grew up just west of Waco
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| He used to bare knuckle fight just for fun
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| He was as wild as a Texas tornado
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| And a bull ridin' son of a gun
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| Then one Saturday night down in Jasper
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| He drew a bull they called Dust Devil Rage
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| And that twenty-two hundred pound hammer
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| Laid Billy John in his grave
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| Now there’s one less tornado in Texas
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| And a saddle that’s empty tonight
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| There’s one hell of a cowboy in Heaven
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| At that big rodeo in the sky
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| Ohh that big rodeo in the sky
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| My granddaddy rode in the thirty’s
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| He must have really been somethin' back then
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| 'Cause all of my life I’ve heard stories
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| About the buckle he didn’t quite win
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| Although he never got over his losing
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| He’s a bonafied hero to me
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| And Lord knows I’m sure gonna miss him
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| But I know he’s in good company |