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 penSolo: 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' penC 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' penC 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
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