Composed by Stan Rogers | © Fogarty’s Cove Music
Forty-four’s no age to start again
But the bulls were getting tough and he was never free of pain
Where others blew their winnings getting tanked
Most of his got banked saving for the farm
He never thought she’d wait for him at all
She wanted more than broken bones and trophies on the wall
But when he quit and finally got the farm
She ran into his arms and now they’ve got a kid
He was star of all the rodeos but now thet rob him blind
It took eighteen years of Brahma bulls and life on the line
To get his spread and a decent herd
But now he spends his time pulling night guard
He told her that he’d got it for the game
A “Winnie” 303 with his initials on the frame
Riding in the scabbard at his knee
Tonight he’s gonna see who’s getting all the stock
Seventh one this summer yesterday
Half a year of profits gone and now there’s hell to pay
The cops say they know who, but there’s no proof
The banker hit the roof and damn near took the car
He hears the wire popping by the road
Sees the blacked out Reo coming for another load
This time it’s not one they take but two
Two minutes and they’re through and laughing in the cab
And here’ll be the end of this tonight
‘Cause all the proof he needs is lying sready in his sights
It may be just the worst thing he could do
But he squeezes off a few, then make his call to town