| This old porch is a big ol’red and white Herford bull
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| Standin’under a mesquite tree in Agua Dulce, Texas
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| He keeps on playin’hide and seek with that hot august sun
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| Sweatin’and a pantin’cause his work is never done
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| Oh no, with those cows and a red top cane
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| This old porch is a steamin’greasy plate of enchiladas
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| With lots of cheese and onions ans a guacamole salad
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| You can get them at the LaSalle Hotel in old downtown
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| With ice tea and a waitress who will smile every time
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| Oh yeah, I left a quarter tip on my ten dollar bill
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| This old porch is a palace walk in on a main street in Texas
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| It ain’t never seen or heard the days of G’s and R’s and X’s
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| And that '62 poster that’s almost faded down
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| And a screen without a picture since Giant came to town
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| Oh no, I like those junior mints and the red hots too, yes I do This old porch is like a weathered grey haired seventy years of Texas
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| Who’s doin’all he can not to give in to the city
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| And he always takes my rent late so long as I run his cattle
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| He picks me up at dinner time and I listen to him rattle
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| He says the Brazos still runs muddy like she’s run all along
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| There’s never been no cane to grind and the cotton’s all but gone
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| You know this Chevrolet pickup truck, hell she was somethin’back in '60
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| But now there won’t nobody listen to him 'cause they all think he’s crazy
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| This old porch is just a long time of waiting and forgetting
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| Remembering the coming back and not crying about the leaving
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| And remembering the falling down and the laughter of the curse of luck
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| From all those son’s of bitches who said we’d never get back up This old porch is a big old red and white Herford bull
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| Standing under a mesquite tree out in Agua Dulce
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| He keep’s on playing hide and seek with that hot August sun
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| He’s sweating and a panting 'cause his work is never done
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| I’ve know a whole lot of bulls in my time, and there work is never done. |