D               G          D                  G 
The blood on my sheets has soaked through the bandage 
          D                                 A 
that they wrapped around the stitches in my side 
      D           G            D         G 
These old country doctors have come to expect it 
         Em                     A 
from the cowboys that come here once a year to ride 
    D              G           D                G 
Now starin' at the ceiling I'm trying to get my senses 
       D                             A 
but I can't recall too much of yesterday 
   D             G              D            G 
except for some cussin' at that bull we call chism 
        D                A            D 
as they turned us out of chute number 3 
 

G                                       A 
Chism  Chism  you're a big bad son of a gun 
     Bm 
Your hide is tough and it's been scarred 
      Em                               A 
Where spurs have dug in deep but never hung 
D                G           D              G 
Chism you're the only reason that I keep on riding 
         D          A               D 
And I'll ride you before my ridin's done 
 

D                 G                    D           G 
Someone's brought in the paper and I'm starin' unbelievin' 
       D                               A 
At the story that's laid out before my eyes 
   D               G              D                   G 
It talks about you chism how they brought you up from Texas 
        Em                         A 
And the cowboy that made a valiant 7 second ride 
   D                G                   D               G 
It mentions how you broke your leg when we went down together 
 

       D                           A 
And it talks about your horn in my side 
         D           G                   D       G 
But it's goin' on to say how they had to put you away 
             D                A           D 
But it don't tell about these tears in my eyes 
G                                    A 
Chism Chism  I love you you son of a gun 
     Bm 
Your hide was tough and it was scarred 
         Em                              A 
Where my spurs had dug in deep but never hung 
D       G           D               G 
Chism I tell you my ridin' days are done 
      D                A               D 
cause after you theres nothing left to ride 
 
REPEAT CHORUS 1