Вступление
[Intro]
[Chorus]
There must be someplace for old wore out cowboys
And broken down pickers and dreamers like me
Where the cue sticks are straight and the beer's always cold
And the juke box is playing Hank Williams for free
[Verse 1]
I've worked in pool rooms and bar rooms and bed rooms
Fron Cheyenne to Memphis, there ain't nothin' new
Hard bodied young cowgirls, too many state fair bulls
I rode 'em all till I'm busted and bruised
[Chorus]
There must be someplace for old wore out cowboys
And broken down pickers and dreamers like me
Where the cue sticks are straight and the beer's always cold
And the juke box is playing Hank Williams for free
[Solo]
[Verse 2]
Now I've picked my guitar till my fingers blistered
Bleedin and sweating and staining my jeans
They tried to whip me but more didn't than did
I'm proud of my dues and God has six strings
[Chorus]
There must be someplace for old wore out cowboys
And broken down pickers and dreamers like me
Where the cue sticks are straight and the beer's always cold
And the juke box is playing Hank Williams for free
And they'll never stay home and their always alone even with someone they love
[Outro]