The Cowboy In The Continental Suit - Marty Robbins



Well, he walks out in the arena

All dressed up to the brim

Said he'd just came down from a place

Called "Highland Rim"

Well, he said he came to ride the horse

The one they call "The Brute"

But he didn't look like a cowboy

In his Continental Suit



We snickered at the way he dressed

But he never said a word

He walks on by the rest of us

As if he hadn't heard

A thousand bucks went to the man

Who could ride this wild cayuse

A meaner horse was never born

Than the one they called "The Brute"



The horse that he was looking for

Was in chute number eight

He walked up very slowly

Put his hand upon the gate

We knew he was a thoroughbred

When he pulled his sack of "Dukes"

From the inside pocket

Of his Continental Suit



Well, he rolled hisself a "Corley"

And he lit it standing there

Blew himself a smoke ring

And he watched it disappear

We thought he must be crazy

When he opened up the gate

Standing just inside was

Fifeteen hundred pounds of hate



The Buckskin tried to run him down

But the stranger was too quick

He stepped aside and threw his arms

Around the horse's neck

And pulled himself up on the back

Of the horse they called "The Brute"

Sit like he was born there

In his Continental Suit



"The Brute's" hind-end was in the air

His front end on the ground

Kickin' and a-squealin', tryin' to

Shake this stranger down

But the stranger didn't give an inch

He came to ride "The Brute"

And he came to ride the Buckskin

In a Continental Suit



Well, I turned around to look at Jim

And he was watchin' me

He said, "I don't believe

The crazy things I think I see

But I think I see the outlaw

The one they call "The Brute"

Ridden by a cowboy

In a Continental Suit"



"The Brute" came to a stand-still

Ashamed that he'd been rode

By a city cowboy in

Some Continental clothes

The stranger took his money

And we don't know where he went

We don't know where he came from

And we haven't seen him since



The moral of this story:

Never judge by what they wear

Underneath some ragged clothes

Could be a millionaire

Everybody listen

Don't be fooled by this galoot

This sure-'nough bronc buster

In a Continental Suit



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