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Thereâs an eighteen point elk rack hanging above the door
The boot heels of the dancers have worn grooves upon the floor
The cowboys have been drinking here since the whiskey trading days
Oil booms and drought years passed through the place
Thereâs a hitchinâ rail out in front and another on the side
A long bar with a brass rail and bottles of rye
The barmaidsâ name is Katie and they say sheâs eighty proof
Thereâs a Chinook arch in the West and water pouring off the roof
Chorus:
Ian Tyson is singinâ âNavajo Rugâ
Ranchers in the corner are dealinâ five card stud
Coyote is a-howlinâ underneath the moon
Here at the Hotel Saloon
Just past the grain elevator across the railroad tracks
Right next door to the Western Store, saddle and tack
The sign out front says âHome Cooked Mealsâ, âRooms Upstairsâ
And something else no one can read but nobody seems to care
Oilmen stop from time to time, everybodyâs welcome here
Thereâs hot coffee and buffalo steaks and bottles of beer
Thereâs a cowboy band on the weekend and all of the hockey games
You could spend a night or spend your life and feel it just the same
Chorus
Wilf Carter is a favorite here on the worn out jukebox
A two-step or a shuffle or a Rocky Mountain waltz
Thereâs horseshoes by the fireplace on the wall by the wagon wheel
When the mercury starts falling it warms against the chill
Thereâs a cowhorse at the rail standing side by side
With a panel track, a horse trailer, and the snowmobiles in line
And it really does get busy here once the sun goes down
And you ought to see it on the long weekend when the rodeoâs in town
Chorus