There's a rodeo in Montana where they come from miles around
Where they throw the hooligan and a bunch of beer cans
All over that little cow town from Friday night to Sunday afternoon
The party goes on nonstop
Ranch hands and rodeo fans are drinking up the very last drop
And they all head for Montana at the foot of the Great Divide
To tie one up or tie one onor to tear it down or ride
So if you're lookin' for a rondavue where the Wild West never dies
You best make it on up to Montana on the right day in July
Now there's some college boys for lazuli here school is just let out
They got a keg of beer on a tub of ice in the back of a brand new Scout
Well they're all longhorns and as sure as you're born
They'll be checkin' those honey's out
And the girls in the cut off jeans might just show 'em what its all about
And there's Indians from the ranches all dressed up in cowboy clothes
Snap button shirts and silver belt buckles and boots with pointed toes
Short hair Stetson hats wiggin' on a jug of Yellow Stone
Well they look more like cowboys then the cowboys I have known
And there's some hippies here from God knows where a puffin' up a cloud of smoke
They got hair down past their shoulders and their clothes are a national joke
They got beads and leather and bells and feathers and moccasins for shoes
Well they look more like Indians than the real live Indians do
And then there's barrel racers and a bull riders and bronc stompers to boot
Struttin' their stuff like Peacocks out in back of the chutes
Tight Levis fancy chaps spurs with five star rowels
And the bull just stands there chewin' his cut lookin' wiser than a tree full of owls
And they all head for Montana...
