C
G7
C
Well he walked out in the arena all dressed up to the brim
Am
G7
Said he’s just came down from a place called Highland Rim
C
Em
F
C
Well he said he came to ride the horse the one they called The Brute
G7
C
But he didn’t look like a cowboy in his Continental Suit
G7
C
We snickered at the way he dressed but he never said a word
Am
G7
He walked on by the rest of us as if he hadn’t heard
C
Em
F
C
A thousand bucks went to the man that could ride this wild Cayuse
G7
C
A meaner horse was never born than the one they called The Brute
G7
C
The horse that he was looking for was in chute number eight
Am
G7
He walked up very slowly put his hand upon the gate
C
Em
F
C
We knew he was a thoroughbred when he pulled a sack of Dukes
G7
C
From the inside pocket of his continental suit
G7
C
He rolled himself a quirley and he lit it standing there
Am
G7
He blew himself a smoke ring and he watched it disappear
C
Em
F
C
We thought he must be crazy when he opened up the gate
G7
C
Standing just inside was fifteen hundred pounds of hate
G7
C
The buckskin tried to run him down but the stranger was too quick
Am
G7
He stepped aside and threw his arms around the horse’s neck
C
Em
F
C
He pulled himself upon the back of the horse they called The Brute
G7
C
Sat like he was born there in his continental suit
G7
C
The Brute’s hind end was in the air his front end on the ground
Am
G7
Kicking and a squealing trying to shake the stranger down
C
Em
F
C
But the stranger didn’t give an inch he came to ride The Brute
G7
C
And he came to ride the buckskin in a continental suit
G7
C
Well I turned around to look at Jim and he was watching me
Am
G7
He said I don’t believe the crazy things I think I see
C
Em
F
C
But I think I see the outlaw the one they call The Brute
G7
C
Ridden by a cowboy in a continental suit
G7
C
The Brute came to a standstill ashamed that he’d been rode
Am
G7
By a city cowboy in some continental clothes
C
Em
F
C
The stranger took his money and we don’t know where he went
G7
C
We don’t know where he came from and we haven’t seen him since
G7
C
The moral of this story never judge by what they wear
Am
G7
Underneath some ragged clothes could be a millionaire
C
Em
F
C
Everybody listen don’t be fooled by this galoot
G7
C
The sure enough bronc buster in a continental suit
C
G7
Am
Em
F
