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William Retzleff Poem
They come from every breed and colour
It's the life they live and they know no other
It's in their veins runnin strong
It's in their heart poundin on
It's a leap of faith into no man's land
Where usually the biggest are left to stand
It's just a dream or scene of the crash
That stops the cowboy dead in his tracks
They buck so hard and no one knows
The next move these bulls will throw
There's no routine or average path
Just pure athletics and skill to match
McBride and Marchi are always there
With Shivers and Moraes hot on the tear
It's these riders chance at fortune and fame
And the PBR is the name of the game
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
He tells the kids of Tuff and Lane with Cody by their side
Headin to every rodeo just tryin to make a ride
The long nights spent drivin and sleepin in the car
And every buckle bunny surroundin them at the bar
Every time he's lost and the bronc or bull has won
Havin a laugh behind the chutes and all the petty fun
The rides he's made the buckles won and the entry fees lost
To biggar, badder and better things that tried to buck him off
His story is long and painful it's filled with wrecks and rides
About the miles traveled and all the teary eyes
He left it all behind him for a chance at golden fame
Lookin at every rodeo for that buckle with his name
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
His bones have been to hell and back his body's gouged and rough
His chaps they sit upon his legs as he does each buckle up
He feels the pain in his neck and back from every ride he missed
And the memory of every girl he never should have kissed
His ridin days are growin short as he pulls his hat down tight
His bronc sits in the steel chute as he's got a ride tonight
His legs are bruised and tattered his boots are scuffed and worn
He's waitin for a chance to feel that massive horse's scorn
His knees creek and crack with pain as he climbs that steel chute
The bronc stands tall and waivers none he knows that she won't spook
His saddle slides onto her back just like it always does
The flank is slid underneath her gut with that skinny belt of fuzz
He knows exactly what to do but his mind is in his pain
All he can think is it's a young man's sport as he grabs a hold of the rein
but he knows deep down that they don't see the heart of a younger man
So he grabs his stirrups and nods his head and he's off to the promise land
All they seen was a beat up old man whose prime had all but passed
His ridin days were done and gone and all the riders laughed
But he stands tall and has a laugh at there expense this time
Because he's the one with the 87 and there at the back of the line
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
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 © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
His heart is poundin his mind is racin as he walks behind the chutes
Somethin’s different about this one as they watch him put on his boots
His eyes are blurry his palms are sweaty he doesn’t know what to do
He shakes a little as he walks around the nerves are showin through
His mind goes blank as he sees those bulls chargin through the gate
This is why he came here tonight he’s gonna make the eight
His confidence is soarin high his hands they sweat no more
His eyes are clear as summer nights and he’s powered to the core
He sees through steel chutes and bars an eye as black as night
That’s the one he wants to ride it’s gonna be a hell of a fight
His fear is gone the nerves have left his adrenaline’s runnin strong
He watches his bull as he rolls ahead and he puts his helmet on
He just cashed his one way ticket to a fiery land called hell
Sent there by a whole lot of bull that they call Thunder Bell
His journey’s long and dark it’s filled with jumps and spins
And Evil Forces sent by the devil to get those cowboy sins
There’s no spirit or evil being that can hurt this rider’s pride
So he walks through that wall of fire and stands at the front of the line
He stares right into the devils eyes and hands his ticket in
There ain’t no way that anyone is gonna get this cowboy’s sin
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
Someone walks beside me every time a climb aboard
It's a tingle and a feel some think that it's the lord
It's there behind the chutes and with you on that bull
It's the spirit of a rider that died some years ago
He's pullin on your bull rope and helpin with your wrap
He's spottin you and pullin on the flank behind your back
He gives you all his courage when your callin for that gate
And he's tossin that hat every time you ride for eight
He knows the bandages and pain and all the broken bones
He's been to every high and felt every awful low
He knows about the sport and every trick about the game
He's the definition of COWBOY and the world calls him Lane
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
He hangs his rope and ties it tight
His chaps are black and yellow bright
His spurs they jingle on his boots
It's the definition of a cowboy's suit
It's the tons of pyro shootin high
It's the buckle waitin on a golden ride
His brains rattlin underneath his hat
His chance at fame on a single stat
He sees inside a heap of hell
His fire and brimstone's burnin well
The fear insdie is all but gone
For no one's ridden this bull he's drawn
This rider goes by the name of Kas
And Sugar ray sits beneath his ass
He gets a feelin deep inside
He'll still be standin after this final ride
The bull he blows and turns in his hand
Kas reads and counters his spinnin plan
The higest ride in Canada yet
And kas has done it without a sweat
This cowboy's made an historic ride
He stands tall and throws his hat with pride
All his hard work is shinnin bright
On that gold buckle that he holds tight
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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William Retzleff Poem
His eyes are cold and dark as night
The fire inside is burnin bright
His anger low but growin wild
This bull they call the crimson mile
The rider stares into these eyes
And sees the start of his demise
His spurs they rattle and begin to quake
His body starts to shiver and shake
His fear inside was all but gone
But rushes back and rages strong
His thoughts they cramp inside his head
About this bull that they call red
The bull he kicks and spins around
This rider's thrown unto the ground
The cowboy's up and to the fence
But to his knees he is sent
Red has ruined his chance at fame
This cowboy's life he did claim
His spirit lives on behind the chutes
In every cowboy who puts on boots
Copyright © William Retzleff | Year Posted 2007
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