Eight hundred and sixty eight, miles of open land.
His trip won't be that fast however, as there ain't no easy ride
He’ll be holding tight with a leather fist, fighting through both pain and pride.
His trip won't be that fast however, as there ain't no easy ride
He’ll be holding tight with a leather fist, fighting through both pain and pride.
Praying he’ll make that next go round, no guarantees in this game
He’d give his life to get there, for just 8 seconds worth of fame.
He may never really know, the countless tears his mamma will cry
He may never really know, the countless tears his mamma will cry
With the knowing deep in her heart, that her baby boy could die.
And each ride his dad will hold his breath, until he hears that buzzer sound,
And each ride his dad will hold his breath, until he hears that buzzer sound,
Secretly a little jealous, of the freedom that his son has found.
Ghosts and memories go with him now, of all those who came before
Ghosts and memories go with him now, of all those who came before
Over a hundred years of cowboys - all riding for that perfect score.
Chris is sitting shotgun, singing through the summer rain,
Chris is sitting shotgun, singing through the summer rain,
And in the Frost of winter, he’ll keep warm with the memory of Lane
And back in ‘89, ‘neath that Cheyenne sun, every cowboy bore witness,
And back in ‘89, ‘neath that Cheyenne sun, every cowboy bore witness,
When Lane himself rode the 8, then died Taking Care of Business.
Yeah Beau laid his father there, making it hallowed ground,
Yeah Beau laid his father there, making it hallowed ground,
Ol’ Chris performs in heaven now, singing for a sold out crowd.
Frontier days is in his blood, he grew up in a rodeo town
Frontier days is in his blood, he grew up in a rodeo town
The world's oldest, there in Prescott, a legacy to which he’s bound
Now looking down that barrel and road, he’ll point to another town far away,
Now looking down that barrel and road, he’ll point to another town far away,
Cuz the world's biggest, it can wait, Cheyenne will be there for another day.
Countless highways he will travel, countless bars he’ll buy a drink.
Countless highways he will travel, countless bars he’ll buy a drink.
Countless cold nights he’ll lay awake, countless times to tired to think.
Waking up in no name motels, in towns he’ll never really know
Waking up in no name motels, in towns he’ll never really know
with buckle bunnies, who love buckle winners, and live for that next show.
So she’ll wave goodbye at first light, and hope to see him his next pass through,
So she’ll wave goodbye at first light, and hope to see him his next pass through,
Knowing all the while he’s going to leave, no matter what it is she’d do,
To keep him there, to keep him safe, to realize her own dreams come true,
His are north, up a winding road, beneath that big ol sky so blue.
Cheyenne pulls to Prescott's son, Eight hundred sixty eight miles in all
Cheyenne pulls to Prescott's son, Eight hundred sixty eight miles in all
He’ll ride each one and many more, For every cowboy hears that call.
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