"You missed him out," the judges said.
But they must both be blind.
I know I marked him cleanly-
I'm not that far behind.My moves are getting slower,
With every passing year.
I'm slower now at healing,
And starting to feel fear.
I'm not afraid of dying!
But of getting crippled bad.
To lose my independence-
Which is all I've ever had.
Of sitting in a wheelchair-
Watch the geese a'flyin' south.
While memories of better years,
Taste bitter in my mouth.
I've known too many cowboys-
Who've lived beyond their time...
Let bitterness consume them,
Once they were past their prime.
I'd rather die still riding-
That's the only way to go.
It's a sure enough addiction,
This sport called "rodeo".