Bid For Eight
By Gunslinger
Coins dropped in the pay phone- Make a lonely sound. Calling home to check on things. After the last go-round. I finished in the money... Just barely so it seems... Instead of eating steak tonight... I’ll feast on Pork and Beans. Then I’ll crawl in my old pickup truck And head on down the road. No way that I could finish well, The first night I got throwed. Rodeo and broken dreams... Seem my lot in life... And nothing’s ever like it seems- I guess I lost my wife. “So why not quit?” you ask me. Why rodeo’s my breath- My very cause of being... I’ll do it till my death. The only time I feel alive- Is when they pull the gate... I set my spurs, and ride him high And make my bid for eight. Written March 9th, 2002 © on Mar 08 2002 04:12 PM PST, John R. Yaws 0 • 10
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"Coins dropped in the pay phone-..."