| Most of the time, things are pretty sublime in this little one horse town
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| Well they close all the stores and they roll up the steets
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| When the evenning sun goes down
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| But the fourth of July flags will be flying high
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| As folks come from miles around
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| They’ll be roarin' all night till the dawns early light
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| When the big rodeo comes to town
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| Well there ain’t no top names of rodeo fame no Tibbs nor Larry Mahans
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| Just some local cowboys out to make 'em some noise
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| But they know everyone in the stands
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| They’re clean and they’re wild with tobacco stained smiles
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| And they dont care if they make a dime
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| If they win or they lose well they don’t give a hoot
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| They’re out just to have a good time
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| There’s cowboys and ladies and old folks and babies
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| And young girls with stars in their eyes
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| Flashy bronc riders and whisker’ed old timers tellin' their stores and lies
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| There’s cold beer and Brandy and pink cotton candy
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| When it’s all over they’ll all head on down
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| To the rodeo dance some midnight romance
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| When the big rodeo comes to town
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| The bands playing loud to that dance hall crowd
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| As boots stir the dust on the floor
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| At the bar they’re playin' old Willie and Whalen
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| As beers disappear by the score
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| But hangovers I’ll bet they’ll soon forget
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| When the next year comes rollin' around
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| They’ll be at it again with all of their friends
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| When the big rodeo comes to town |