All fixed up, ready to roll

He's feelin' his oats

So he's hittin' the road



No destination, nothin' on his mind

Just a strange premonition

He's gonna meet a deadline



Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa

All dressed up and no place to go

Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa

Whoa, oh oh oh oh

Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa



A cloud of dust and a rebel yell

Pedal to the metal

Gonna raise a little hell



Ain't got no script but he puts on a show

He's playin' the fool

And he was born for the roll



Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa

His fuse is lit and it's about to blow

Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa

Whoa, oh oh oh oh

Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa



Doesn't know just where he's goin' until he's there

No need for him to hurry, but he don't care



--- Guitar Solo ---



He's late for a date at the pearly gate

Speedin' in the fast lane

To an early grave



Comin' to his deadline, and he's losin' control

There just might be fireworks

At the end of the show



Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa

First to come and the first to go

Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa

Whoa, oh oh oh oh

Too much Giddyup, not enough Whoa



Whoa, oh oh oh oh

Whoa, oh oh oh oh

Whoa, oh oh oh oh