I probably should let this diary die, but somehow I think y'all haven't been punished enough with my

poetry.
Let Er Buck
by Faye
Old cowboys never die, they just run out of luck
So enjoy the ride and Let Er Buck
Come on over and see what we do
It's a low down hoe down, Eastern Oregon Buckeroo
It's rodeo time, out here in the east
Where man steps up, to ride the bucking beast
Cowboys and Indians, do what they like to do
It's low down on the ground, Eastern Oregon Buckeroo
Cowboys, Indians, and Hippies, are looking mighty dapper
Rough stock is unloaded, it's going to be a zapper
Many a Cowboy will soon, be all black and blue
It's low down on the ground, Eastern Oregon Buckeroo
Young ladies rounding barrels, toppling some they graze
Ropers raising dust, lariats swinging in a haze
Smoke rising from the pit, cooking brisket BBQ
It's low down to the ground, Eastern Oregon Buckeroo
Hot dogs, hamburgers, tap beer, all at least a ten dollar bill
Long lines, port a potty waiting, their turn to take a spill
Never mind the dust, the burn of sun, just do what you do
It's low down to the ground, Eastern Oregon Buckeroo
So get out of town, come on down, enjoy what we do
It's a low down, hoe down, Eastern Oregon Buckeroo
AI generated from a photo of me to add the "cowboy" look. I like how it got my one weak eye
very accurate. I did this poem for the world famous Pendleton Roundup - "Let er Buck!"
