All fixed up, ready to roll   He's feelin' his oats   So he's hittin' the road      No destination, nothin' on his mind   Just a strange premonition   He's gonna meet a deadline      Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa   All dressed up and no place to go   Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa   Whoa, oh oh oh oh   Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa      A cloud of dust and a rebel yell   Pedal to the metal   Gonna raise a little hell      Ain't got no script but he puts on a show   He's playin' the fool   And he was born for the roll      Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa   His fuse is lit and it's about to blow   Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa   Whoa, oh oh oh oh   Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa      Doesn't know just where he's goin' until he's there   No need for him to hurry, but he don't care      --- Guitar Solo ---      He's late for a date at the pearly gate   Speedin' in the fast lane   To an early grave      Comin' to his deadline, and he's losin' control   There just might be fireworks   At the end of the show      Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa   First to come and the first to go   Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa   Whoa, oh oh oh oh   Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa      Whoa, oh oh oh oh   Whoa, oh oh oh oh   Whoa, oh oh oh oh