The Ropin' Pen Lyrics - Trent Willmon

Every Friday afternoon, I hitch up the trailer 

Saddle up ol' rock an' ice down the cooler 

Drive that back road until it ends 

At the Ropin' Pen 

There's rusted out pick-ups an' fancy rigs 

Twenty-thousand dollar horses then there's my ol' stag 

But we're all the same the minute we ride in 

To the Ropin' Pen 

Well, I ain't no Clayo Speed 

But I give her Hell 

Hell, you never can tell 

Some day I just might be 

We'll turn a few steers an' tell a few lies 

Kick back in the saddle an' philosophize 

Most of life's problems, we can prob'ly solve 'em 

In the Ropin' Pen 

We don't do it for the money, Hell, we're always broke 

Just ask my ol' buddy Nathan what he'd pay to rope 

He lost a couple of wives, half the fingers on his hands 

To the Ropin' Pen 

An' it takes a little skill an' a little luck 

An' you can talk smack if you can back it up 

Ah, but we're all friends, no matter who wins 

Here at the Ropin' Pen 

Well, I ain't no Clayo Speed 

But I give her Hell 

Hell, you never can tell 

Some day I just might be 

We'll turn another pit of steers an' tell a few more lies 

Drink another beer and hypothesize 

Most of life's problems, Hell, we're gonna solve 'em 

In the Ropin' Pen 

See y'all again, next weekend 

Here at the Ropin' Pen 

At the Ropin' Pen 

Down at the Ropin' Pen 

In the Ropin' Pen