with nearly five hundred head needin’ water
and ate beans and threw back moonshine
from Earl’s still.
That shit burned like hell goin’ down,
but I never let on.
A few good swigs, and I was up
for ridin’ that new young bronc.
Jed bet me twenty
I’d not make eight.
So I wrapped that rope ‘round my fist,
said “I’ll take that bet!” and dug in my spur.
There on that cold, hard ground,
even my underwear hurt.
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