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The Bulls

The hatred in those blackened eyes The thunder roarin when hooves collide The air beneath the jumps and kicks The spins and circles and brutal dips The humps and horns and leather hot The smell of hide and a winnin shot The announcers voice so deep and loud It’s time for the bulls and the crowd goes wild They don’t know the thrill and pain That they bring to this rodeo game The fan support is off the charts And the bulls and blood is where it starts

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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