when he was a boy dreamed of bein a man probably dreamed every thing that a young boy can he s a lover a fighter a saddle bronc rider an all around hell of a hand and the spot lights on the sawdust that shines in his brain and his dreams are the bones in his soul and there s rivers of dance halls and wild red eyeballs on the road to the big rodeo well the chutes are all loaded the riggins are set lord the cowboy s ready to ride well it s pull down his hat and he spit out his chew there ll be a hot time in the old town tonight the horse in chute eight he s a kickin the gate lord he s big and he s hard and he s crazy and the chute boss is a hollerin come on boys get on em i m commencin to think you re all lazy and the spot lights on the sawdust with his spurs in his shoulders the horse comes unglued it s like ridin some kind of explosion and the bronc he starts spinnin the cowboy s a grinnin doin fine there in all the commotion the crowd s on its feet the whistle she blows and the pickup men rush to his side as they pull him away he hears one of em say looks to me like a winnin ride and the spot lights on the sawdust that shines in his brain and his dreams are the bones in his soul and it s all comin true right in front of his eyes cause he s the feller who won the big rodeo