The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
The White Buffalo
Cold, colder than the night before
He told you, yesterday seems like a life ago
He sold you anything, he finds and steals
They stole his mind, and it sits in a jar with the feds
He misbehaves
It must be his mother's fault
Rat race just passed him on by
I said hold him down
He acts like a lunatic
Hogtied like a rodeo and off to jail
Grow, well he's growing more paranoid and insane
He told you, he's a homeless millionaire with a tale
One more, one more dime so he can get some rocks
Bold, hustling tourists in the parking lot
He misbehaves
It must be his mother's fault
Rat race just passed him on by
I said hold him down
He acts like a lunatic
Hogtied like a rodeo and off to jail
Well he don't look so good today
I said, oh Lord
Staring through the cars at the window
Across the street
Well his eyes are crazed, wild, glazed
The pigs they come, they're gonna shake him down
Shake him down
He misbehaves
It must be his mother's fault, oh
Rat race just passed him on by
I said hold him down
He acts like a lunatic
Hogtied like a rodeo and off to jail
Hogtied Like a Rodeo was written by The White Buffalo.
Hogtied Like a Rodeo was produced by Bob Hurley & Peter King.