Papa Was a Rodeo

I like your twisted point of view, Mike
I like your questioning eyebrows
You’ve made it pretty clear what you like
It’s only fair to tell you now
That I leave early in the morning
And I won’t be back till next year
I see that kiss-me pucker forming
But maybe you should plug it with a beer, 'cause
Papa was a rodeo
Mama was a rock’n’roll band
I could play guitar and rope a steer
Before I learned to stand
Home was anywhere with diesel gas
Love was a trucker’s hand
Never stuck around long enough
For a one-night stand
Before you kiss me you should know
Papa was a rodeo
The light reflecting off the mirror ball
Looks like a thousand swirling eyes
They make me think I shouldn’t be here at all
You know, every minute someone dies
What are we doing in this dive bar?
How can you live in a place like this?
Why don’t you just get into my car
And I’ll take you away
I’ll take that kiss now, but
Papa was a rodeo
Mama was a rock’n’roll band
I could play guitar and rope a steer
Before I learned to stand
Home was anywhere with diesel gas
Love was a trucker’s hand
Never stuck around long enough
For a one-night stand
Before you kiss me you should know
Papa was a rodeo
And now it’s 55 years later
We’ve had the romance of the century
After all these years wrestling gators
I still feel like crying
When I think of what you said to me:
«Papa was a rodeo
Mama was a rock’n’roll band
I could play guitar and rope a steer
Before I learned to stand
Home was anywhere with diesel gas
Love was a trucker’s hand
Never stuck around long enough
For a one-night stand
Before you kiss me you should know
Papa was a rodeo,»
What a coincidence
Your papa was a rodeo, too