A Second Chance

by Tim Jobe

In the Anacacho Mountains where the slick rock is the king

And the blackbrush and guajillo own the land,

A bay colt was born one morning by a barely flowing spring

On the Texas ranch of a shorenuff old cowman.

The man who owned the ranch was getting up in years

But he still held on and did the best he could.

He had two daughters, grown and gone: alone with all his fears

That he couldn’t run the ranch the way he should.

So he started cutting back some, selling off some of his stock.

The broodmare band was the first to go.

They were gathered early autumn from their home out in the rocks

And hauled to the sale barn in San Angelo.

The bay was nothing special, just a raw boned weanling colt.

He was sorted off his mom and sold alone.

He was bought by a man that owned a ranch a few miles south of Holt,

Hauled to the ranch and kicked out on his own.

The man took ill right after that and had to move to town.

His banker son stepped in and took the ranch.

Just before the colt turned three, the banker eared him down;

Tried to ride him but he never stood a chance.

Cause the colt was scared and angry, he did the only thing he could,

He bucked to get that demon off his back.

He dumped that ignorant banker; I mean really dumped him good

Then jumped the fence and made off with his tack.

He was branded as an outlaw and was hauled to town again.

He found himself in Wilson’s bucking string.

They hauled him to some rodeos; he bucked good now and then.

He grew big and stout and quick and smart and mean.

But his heart just wasn’t in it and one day he caught my eye.

I don’t know why, just something that I saw.

There was something ’bout his look that said : If you’ll give me a try

I could make a good cow pony after all.

So I bought him from the Wilsons and I hauled him to my spread.

I worked each day to build a bond of trust.

I gave him time to understand, to fix things in his head,

And decide if  things I asked of him were just

It didn’t take much time ’til he was giving all he could

To learn to do the things I asked him to.

He became an eager student, willing, kind and good.

And I never found a thing he wouldn’t do.

I’ve seen a lot of people who remind me of that horse.

They didn’t get an even break on life.

Their circumstances somehow knocked them off the narrow course

And left them with a steady run on strife.

All they need’s a different trainer to help them find their way.

Someone to take the time to lend a hand.

To show them how things ought to work, the way to earn their pay,

So they don’t have to wear the outlaw brand