He stood out in the Cheyenne area dust by the latch on chute number four   The young cowboys were laughin' at him and at the out of date clothes that he wore   Though his trophy buckle was old it told of the glory he surely had seen   And the beard that showed neath his old John B was wirey silver sheen   With a plug in his lip from his back pocket rip and his faded old denim jeans blue   Where a halo show white like a moon in the night   Was a hole where his snoozed worn through   He spat in the dust and he bitterly cussed as the bull tried to tear down the chute   Then he looked up at me with a gleam in his eye   And he placed his old hand on my boot   He said you'll ride this old bull on your worst ever day   With your hind leg chained to a tree   As I am made ready to concur the brute here's an old song my old man sang to me   Go ridin' young cowboy go winnin' and goin' out boy   Don't let him put you on the ground   Go spur him young cowboy de fur him riding out boy   Show 'em that your Oklahoma bound      Well I marked eighty points and I won me the round   The fans in the stands went plum wild   Well I could see my old daddy just a dancin' a jig   Well I looked up to the Lord and I smiled   I said thanks for my good arm and thanks for my luck   And thanks that I'm still fit and young   But thanks most of all for them old bulls that buck   For my dad and the song that he sung   Go ridin' young cowboy...      Well I've been down the road many miles since that day   Things ain't changed much since I've begun   I still think of my dad when I'm ropin' one up and I sing his song to my son   Go ridin' young cowboy...   Go ridin' young cowboy...