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C) Well, he walked out in the arena All (G) dressed up to the (C) brim Said he's just came (Am) down From a (G) place called Highland Rim Well, he (C) said he came to (Em) ride the horse The (F) one they called The (C) Brute But he didn't look (G7) like a (C) cowboy In his (G) Continental (C) Suit. We snickered at the way he dressed but he never said a word He walked on by the rest of us as if he hadn't heard A thousand bucks went to the man that could ride this wild cayuse A meaner horse was never born than the one they called 'The Brute.' The horse that he was lookin' for was in chute number eight He walked up very slowly, put his hand upon the gate We knew he was a thoroughbred when he pulled a sack of Dukes >From the inside pocket of his Continental Suit. He rolled himself a Quirley and he lit it standing there He blew himself a smoke ring and he watched it disappear We thought he must be crazy when he opened up the gate Standing just inside was fifteen hundred pounds of hate. The buckskin tried to run him down but the stranger was too quick He stepped aside and threw his arms around the horse's neck He pulled himself upon the back of the horse they called 'The Brute' Sat like he was born there in his continental suit. The Brute's hind end was in the air, his front end on the ground, Kickin' and a-squeelin' - trying to shake the stranger down But the stranger didn't give an inch - he came to ride 'The Brute' And he came to ride the buckskin in a continental suit. Well, I turned around to look at Jim and he was watching me He said, 'I don't believe the crazy things I think I see But I think I see the outlaw, the one they call 'The Brute' Ridden by a cowboy in a continental suit.' The Brute came to a standstill - ashamed that he'd been rode By a city cowboy in some continental clothes The stranger took his money and we don't know where he went We don't know where he came from and we haven't seen him since. The moral of this story - never judge by what they wear Underneath some ragged clothes could be a millionaire Ev'rybody, listen - don't be fooled by this galoot The sure enough bronc-buster in a Continental Suit
Written by Marty Robbins
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