Текст песни Ropin' Pen (Trent Willmon) с переводом

Every Friday afternoon, I hitch up the trailer

Saddle up ol' rock an' ice down the cooler

Drive that back road until it ends

At the Ropin' Pen

There’s rusted out pick-ups an' fancy rigs

Twenty-thousand dollar horses then there’s my ol' stag

But we’re all the same the minute we ride in

To the Ropin' Pen

Well, I ain’t no Clayo Speed

But I give her Hell

Hell, you never can tell

Some day I just might be

We’ll turn a few steers an' tell a few lies

Kick back in the saddle an' philosophize

Most of life’s problems, we can prob’ly solve 'em

In the Ropin' Pen

We don’t do it for the money, Hell, we’re always broke

Just ask my ol' buddy Nathan what he’d pay to rope

He lost a couple of wives, half the fingers on his hands

To the Ropin' Pen

An' it takes a little skill an' a little luck

An' you can talk smack if you can back it up

Ah, but we’re all friends, no matter who wins

Here at the Ropin' Pen

Well, I ain’t no Clayo Speed

But I give her Hell

Hell, you never can tell

Some day I just might be

We’ll turn another pit of steers an' tell a few more lies

Drink another beer and hypothesize

Most of life’s problems, Hell, we’re gonna solve 'em

In the Ropin' Pen

See y’all again, next weekend

Here at the Ropin' Pen

At the Ropin' Pen

Down at the Ropin' Pen

In the Ropin' Pen

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