C
Well, he walked out in the arena  
       G                 C
   All dressed up to the brim 
                    Am
Said he's just came down  
          G
   From a place called Highland Rim 
         C               Em
Well, he said he came to ride the horse 
       F                   C
   The one they called The Brute 
                   G7     C
But he didn't look like a cowboy  
          G           C
   In his Continental Suit. 
 
We snickered at the way he dressed but he never said a word 
He walked on by the rest of us as if he hadn't heard 
A thousand bucks went to the man that could ride this wild cayuse 
A meaner horse was never born than the one they called "The Brute." 
 
The horse that he was lookin' for was in chute number eight 
He walked up very slowly, put his hand upon the gate 
We knew he was a thoroughbred when he pulled a sack of Dukes 
>From the inside pocket of his Continental Suit. 
 
He rolled himself a Quirley and he lit it standing there 
He blew himself a smoke ring and he watched it disappear 
We thought he must be crazy when he opened up the gate 
Standing just inside was fifteen hundred pounds of hate. 
               
The buckskin tried to run him down but the stranger was too quick 
He stepped aside and threw his arms around the horse's neck 
He pulled himself upon the back of the horse they called "The Brute" 
Sat like he was born there in his continental suit. 
 
The Brute's hind end was in the air, his front end on the ground,  
Kickin' and a-squeelin' - trying to shake the stranger down  
But the stranger didn't give an inch - he came to ride "The Brute" 
And he came to ride the buckskin in a continental suit. 
 
Well, I turned around to look at Jim and he was watching me  
He said, "I don't believe the crazy things I think I see  
But I think I see the outlaw, the one they call 'The Brute'  
Ridden by a cowboy in a continental suit." 
 
The Brute came to a standstill - ashamed that he'd been rode  
By a city cowboy in some continental clothes 
The stranger took his money and we don't know where he went 
We don't know where he came from and we haven't seen him since. 
 
The moral of this story - never judge by what they wear  
Underneath some ragged clothes could be a millionaire 
Ev'rybody, listen - don't be fooled by this galoot 
The sure enough bronc-buster in a Continental Suit