Lora Songtext
von Michael O'Connor

Uncle John rode in the rodeo
And he was pretty good they say
Uncle John had polio
He limped around till his dying day
Uncle John was a cowpoke
But gave it in to sell Chevrolets
Uncle John was a hero
Every ragged child in town knew his name

Laura, come to the rodeo
I′ll ride this afternoon
Laura, come to the rodeo
I'll be on that white stud they call Blue
Ah-ooh, ooh, ooh
Na-na, na-na, na, na


Uncle John never cared too much for the Lord
Couldn′t take stake in a dead man
But he was always giving what he had to the poor
And as for himself, well
By 1960, Uncle John had given away more than he could afford
Nobody noticed when he was tap-dry
Dry like the dust in some old West Texas store
You try to spit, you get dirt in your eye

Laura, come to the rodeo
I'll ride this afternoon
Laura, come to the rodeo
I'll be on that white stud they call Blue
Ah-ooh, ooh, ooh
Na-na, na-na, na, na

Now the room smells like death and the lights grow dim
A scream′s heard down the hall
Uncle John rocks in an old wheelchair
As the bugs crawl across the wall
And the days go by without a kind word won
Waiting on a long distance call
With the faces and the places of long ago
Rolling around inside his skull


Laura, come to the rodeo
I′ll ride this afternoon
Laura, come to the rodeo
I'll be on that white stud they call Blue
Laura, come to the rodeo
I′ll ride this afternoon
Laura, come to the rodeo
I'll be on that white stud they call Blue
Ah-ooh, ooh, ooh
Na-na, na-na, na, na

Uncle John rode in the rodeo