Rodeo Clown

Most times he’s been a rider,
he knows the bulls so well—
he zigs an’ zags around ‘em
before the cowboys yell.

The critter’s bent on killin’ him,
an’ the man upon his back,
that’s why the clown in funny clothes
tries quickly to distract.

He wears a red bandana,
an’ cut off Wrangler jeans,
cowboy boots up to the knee,
an’ a polka-dot shirt of green.

With a big ol’ hat pulled way down low,
an’ face paint—red ‘n white,
he dances ‘round that angry bull,
an’ gives the crowd a fright.

Clowns also are protective
of cowboys ridin’ broncs,
an’ when the dust is settled—
they meet in honky-tonks.

It’s not an’ easy livin’—
they’re always on the road,
an’ most admit it’s punishment
for wild-oats they have sowed.

These men are always roughnecks—
where do they get their nerve
to stand in front of Brahmas,
roll in barrels—dodge ‘n swerve?

They represent true bravery—
let’s give those clowns their due
‘cause when that rodeo’s over,
you can bet they’re black ‘n blue.