Intro: D (4x)
D
Every Friday afternoon I hitch up the trailer
G
Saddle up old Rock and ice down the cooler
Em A D
Drive that back road until it ends at the ropin pen
D
There's rusted out pickups and fancy rigs
G
$20,000 horses then there's my old stick
Em A D
But we're all the same the minute we ride in to the ropin pen
C G D
Well I ain't no Clay or Speed
C G
But I give her hell, hell you never can tell
A
Someday I just might be
D
We'll turn a few steers and tell a few lies
G
Kick back in the saddle and philosophize
Em A D
Most of life's problems we can probably solve 'em at the ropin' pen
Solo: G A G A
D
We Don't do it for the money hell we're always broke
G
Just ask my old buddy Nathan what he'd pay to rope
Em A D
Lost a couple wifes half the fingers on his hand to the ropin' pen
D
And It takes a little skill and a little luck
G
And you can talk smack if you can back it up
Em A D
Ah but we're all friends no matter who wins here at the ropin' pen
C G D
Well I ain't no Clay or Speed
C G
But I give 'er hell, hell you never can tell
A
Someday I just might be
D
We'll turn another pen of steers and tell a few more lies
G Em
Drink another beer and hypothesize most of life's problems
A D
Hell we're gonna solve 'em at the ropin' pen
A A
See ya'll again next weekend here at the ropin' pen
D
At the ropin' pen down at the ropin pen
D
At the ropin' pen