Ropin' Pen
Willmon/Kinney
A Little More Livin'
INTRO: D
Every [D]Friday afternoon I hitch up the trailer
[G]Saddle up ol' Rock and ice down the cooler
Drive that [Em]backroad un[A]til it ends at the [D]ropin' pen
There's [D]rusted out pickups and fancy rigs
[G]20,000 dollar horses and then there's my old stick
But we're [Em]all the same the minute [A]we ride into the [D]ropin' pen
CHORUS:
Well I [C]ain't no [G]Clay'O or [D]Speed
But I [C]give her hell, hell you [G]never can tell
Some[A]day I just might be
We'll [D]turn a few steers and tell a few lies
[G]Kick back in the saddle and philosophize
Most of life's [Em]problems, we can probably [A]solve 'em at the [D]ropin pen
SOLO
We don't do it for the money, hell we're always broke
Just ask my old buddy nathan what he'd pay to rope
He lost a couple wives, half the fingers on his hands, to the ropin' pen
And it takes a little skill and a little luck
And you can talk smack if you can back it up
Ah but we're all friends no matter who wins here at the ropin' pen
CHORUS 2:
Well I ain't no Clay'O or Speed
But I give her hell, hell you never can tell
Someday I just might be
We'll turn another pen of steers and tell a few more lies
Drink another beer and hypothesize
Most of life's problems, hell we're gonna solve 'em, at the ropin' pen
See y[Em]a'll again, [A]next weekend, here at the [D]ropin pen
INTRO out
Willmon/Kinney
A Little More Livin'
INTRO: D
Every [D]Friday afternoon I hitch up the trailer
[G]Saddle up ol' Rock and ice down the cooler
Drive that [Em]backroad un[A]til it ends at the [D]ropin' pen
There's [D]rusted out pickups and fancy rigs
[G]20,000 dollar horses and then there's my old stick
But we're [Em]all the same the minute [A]we ride into the [D]ropin' pen
CHORUS:
Well I [C]ain't no [G]Clay'O or [D]Speed
But I [C]give her hell, hell you [G]never can tell
Some[A]day I just might be
We'll [D]turn a few steers and tell a few lies
[G]Kick back in the saddle and philosophize
Most of life's [Em]problems, we can probably [A]solve 'em at the [D]ropin pen
SOLO
We don't do it for the money, hell we're always broke
Just ask my old buddy nathan what he'd pay to rope
He lost a couple wives, half the fingers on his hands, to the ropin' pen
And it takes a little skill and a little luck
And you can talk smack if you can back it up
Ah but we're all friends no matter who wins here at the ropin' pen
CHORUS 2:
Well I ain't no Clay'O or Speed
But I give her hell, hell you never can tell
Someday I just might be
We'll turn another pen of steers and tell a few more lies
Drink another beer and hypothesize
Most of life's problems, hell we're gonna solve 'em, at the ropin' pen
See y[Em]a'll again, [A]next weekend, here at the [D]ropin pen
INTRO out
