The hot West Texas sun was bearing down
Under that old greasy Silver Belly hat he wore
The sweat was boiling, he cussed every time he came to town
And like the last time, never again, he swore

His old boots had seen better days, they felt good
Had a big brandin’ last week on the lower Cherokee
His old Wranglers, he would have washed them if he could
Still blood stained from the brandin’ on the Lower Cherokee

He drove slow as he entered the rat race
The rat racers honked and cussed at him as they drove by
Thinking, why in the Hell would anyone live in such a place
He figured it wasn’t for him to wonder why

He parked his old pickup outside the feed store
Really the only place that anyone understood what he had to say
The others always looked at him and the clothes that he wore
Guess that they just didn’t understand his way

His old skin had turned to rawhide from the years in the sun
His old head was hard, but his heart hadn’t gone that way
He could remember when coming to town was fun
But, Hell, that was yesterday

His pants stuffed in his high top boots, still had his spurs on
He walked slow as he made his way
He wondered, where had all of the years gone
‘Cause, well, things just ain’t the same way

He got what he needed, it was time to head back
He’d seen all that he could stand
Prayed to God that he didn’t get run over by a damn Cadillac
In this place that he didn’t understand

He thought, this old world is spinning every day
And he was a-thinking, it was whirling out of control
When going to town was fun, like yesterday
Better get out of here, he thought, before the Devil gets my soul