His eyes are cold and restless
and his wounds have almost healed.
And she'd give half of Texas
just to change the way he feels.
She knows his love's in Tulsa
and she know's he's gonna go.
Well it ain't no woman, flesh and blood,
it's that damned old rodeo.
Well it's bulls and blood, it's the dust and mud
it's the roar of a sunday crowd.
It's the white in his knuckles, the gold in the buckle
he'll win the next go 'round.
It's boots and chaps, it's cowboy hats,
it's spurs and a latigo.
It's the ropes and the reins and the joy and the pain,
and they call the thing rodeo.
She does her best to hold him
It's the broncs and the blood,
It's the steers and the mud,
And they call the thing rodeo.