Intro There must be someplace for old wore out cowboys And broken down pickers and dreamers like me Where the cue sticks are straight and the beer's always cold And the juke box is playing Hank Williams for free verse 1 I've worked in pool rooms and bar rooms and bed rooms Fron Cheyenne to Memphis, there ain't nothin' new Hard bodied young cowgirls, too many state fair bulls I rode 'em all till I'm busted and bruised There must be someplace for old wore out cowboys And broken down pickers and dreamers like me Where the cue sticks are straight and the beer's always cold And the juke box is playing Hank Williams for free Solo verse 2 Now I've picked my guitar till my fingers blistered Bleedin and sweating and staining my jeans They tried to whip me but more didn't than did I'm proud of my dues and God has six strings There must be someplace for old wore out cowboys And broken down pickers and dreamers like me Where the cue sticks are straight and the beer's always cold And the juke box is playing Hank Williams for free And they'll never stay home and their always alone even with someone they love Outro
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