DONATIN’: RODEO STYLE

There’s a piece of little finger on a fence out in Cheyenne
They had a wild horse race and I thought I’d lend a hand

I gave a bite of earlobe to a bronc in Calgary
A souvenir, I reckon, so he’d remember me

A hank of hair is clingin’ to a light pole in Raton
Where we both went up together but I come down all alone

In Omaha, Nebraska I left a chunk of chin
I tried to find it later but forgot where all I’d been

I left bone chips down in Tucson with a doctor and his nurse
Gave blood in Oklahoma just to help me reimburse

My pardners I is owin’ for the gas to Angelo
Where I’d grudgingly donated a percentage of my toe

An Oakdale corriente took the tip off my thumb
And this cast I got in Denver is a little cumbersome

A doggin’ steer  in Billings took a bit of this eyebrow
When he thought he’d do some farmin’ and used me for a plow

A bull in Garden City  took interest in my nose
And peeled the top right off it, for his scrapbook, I suppose

I’ve got Shrapnel in my body from arenas far and near
From Bismarck, Cedar City, Winnemucca and Fort Pierre

Pendleton, Ellensburg, Shreveport and Dubuque
When I start to think about it, it makes me kinda spook

Though I’ve made quite a collection, I only think it’s fair
Cause pieces of my body I left scattered everywhere

Enough hide to make a riggin’, enough hair to braid a rein
Enough teeth to make a necklace, enough nerve to build a brain

 I’ve left a trail of things I’ve lost, like heart and soul and mind
But them that went before me left some of theirs behind

So I borrowed’em and used’em like they meant for me to do
And I’ll leave’em for the next guy and if that next guy’s you…

When you run short of courage or losin’ gets you down
Remember them before you left somethin’ in the ground

And in the chute or ropin’ box or floatin’ in the air
It’s the ghost of every cowboy who ever entered there

Every ridin’, ropin’ outlaw left you some will to win
Just look around ya, pardner, you’ll find a piece of skin.

                  ~~ from the movie 8 Seconds & written, we believe, by Baxter Black