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D5               G5          D5                  G5 
The blood on my sheets has soaked through the bandage 
          D5                                 A5 
that they wrapped around the stitches in my side 
      D5           G5            D5         G5 
These old country doctors have come to expect it 
         E5                     A5 
from the cowboys that come here once a year to ride 
    D5              G5           D5                G5 
Now starin' at the ceiling I'm trying to get my senses 
       D5                             A5 
but I can't recall too much of yesterday 
   D5             G5              D5            G5 
except for some cussin' at that bull we call chism 
        D5                A5            D5 
as they turned us out of chute number 3 

G5                                       A5 
Chism  Chism  you're a big bad son of a gun 
Your hide is tough and it's been scarred 
      E5                               A5 
Where spurs have dug in deep but never hung 
D5                G5           D5              G5 
Chism you're the only reason that I keep on riding 
         D5          A5               D5 
And I'll ride you before my ridin's done 

D5                 G5                    D5           G5 
Someone's brought in the paper and I'm starin' unbelievin' 
       D5                               A5 
At the story that's laid out before my eyes 
   D5               G5              D5                   G5 
It talks about you chism how they brought you up from Texas 
        E5                         A5 
And the cowboy that made a valiant 7 second ride 
   D5                G5                   D5               G5 
It mentions how you broke your leg when we went down together 

       D5                           A5 
And it talks about your horn in my side 
         D5           G5                   D5       G5 
But it's goin' on to say how they had to put you away 
             D5                A5           D5 
But it don't tell about these tears in my eyes 
G5                                    A5 
Chism Chism  I love you you son of a gun 
Your hide was tough and it was scarred 
         E5                              A5 
Where my spurs had dug in deep but never hung 
D5       G5           D5               G5 
Chism I tell you my ridin' days are done 
      D5                A5               D5 
cause after you theres nothing left to ride 
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