His face is slightly leather-like, his look is tough and mean.
He's ready for the ride tonight, he's ready for anything.
His chaps whip with the wind, dust stirs there on the ground.
People stand surrounding him and he just stares them down.
It's then that the moment is just right, he's ready for the ride,
He carefully opens the - brand new, nicely enclosed trailer
with lights, carpet and all of the accessories - to grab the hog inside.
It's rally time in the Black Hills, we welcome them one and all.
We mainly like the cash they bring and we're ready when fall
officially sets in and sends them back to their far away home.
They're nice enough people, we just can't handle the constant moan.
It's been said there's one or two who aren't willing to pay for pricey rooms.
They'll camp out in your pasture, and your sheep'll be more nicely groomed.
You better keep a real close eye on your cows this time of year
'cuz a wildeye biker might decide to be daring and ride a yearling steer.
Then there are the several who have professions and also huge bank accounts.
You can tell them by a real slow bike that wiggles when they mount.
Some call them iron horses, those fancy bikes they ride.
I have a horse with muscles of iron, I just call him Clyde.
I don't mean to be too rude though and I don't want to stereotype.
So I'll just keep my ponies and sir, you can keep your bike!
- Trinity Lewis