| Well I’ll gladly take ten seconds in the saddle
|
| For a lifetime of watching from the stands
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| His Stetson was faded and battered and worn
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| The stubble of his beard showed flex of gray
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| His limp was severe cause a leg had been torn by a bronc in his rodeo days
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| He hung round the chutes while we waited to mount
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| With a vague look of longing in his eyes
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| He spoke very few words but he made 'em count
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| He was broken forgotten but wise
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| He said life’s is just like ridin' broncs its a battle
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| Then he rolled a cigarette with shaky hands
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| Son I’ll gladly take ten seconds in the saddle
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| For a lifetime of watching from the stands
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| I noticed the cigarette burns on his vest
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| And the rembrandt of a dream left in his eyes
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| The boys said he could have well been the best
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| Had not fate cheated him of his prize
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| Oh but I learned a lesson that I never known
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| From this guy who’d been busted so bad
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| It’s better to ride even if you get throwed
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| Than to wind up just wishing you had
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| He said life’s is just like…
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| Yes I’ll gladly take ten seconds in the saddle
|
| For a lifetime of watching from the stands |