Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys. Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks. Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such. . Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
He left for work and he never came back now Mary has to face the fact. That it's up to her to start a new life with two kids and just one job. It's gonna' take all the strength she's got.
She lives for the thunder, he lives for the rain. She was born in Manhattan, he grew up near Spokane. He found her sitting by the side of the road. Her long hair shining like that black Texas gold.
Just look at you, girl. Standin' here beside me. Starlight on your hair. Lookin' like a dream. I dreamed somewhere. . And look at me, girl. You got me actin' just like a lover.
Ten years ago on a cool, dark night. There was someone killed 'neath the town hall light. There were few at the scene but they all did agree. That the slayer who ran looked a lot like me.
Well I have been a cowboy dang near all my life. That good ol' cowboy music is all I'm supposed to like. But here lately I don't know what's happening.
Well I have been a cowboy, dang near all my life. That good ol' cowboy music is all I'm supposed to like. But here lately I don't know what's happening.
Little Joe the Wrangler, he'll wrangle never more. His days with the remuda, they're all done. It was long about last April, he rode into our camp. Just a little Texas stray and all alone.
In a lonely all night diner, on a rainy city street. A girl eats at the counter with a suitcase at her feet. And the waitress looks her over and she knows that she can't pay.
Well, it really has been nice bein' with you. But I'm afraid that I've got to leave. As you know I'm a rodeo cowboy. And there's a rodeo down in Mesquite.
Life's like a road that you travel on. One day here and the next day gone. Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand. Sometimes you turn your back to the wind.
Cowboys they are ladies men alright. They love 'em up and talk 'em up all night. But they're lonesome when there's nothin' else to do. That's what makes the cowboys sing the blues.
Well, I'm lean, mean and hungry. Rude, crude and dirty. The most folks that see me. Goin' down the road. . I'm a bum and I'm lazy. Some think I'm crazy.
I can still recall the day my uncle Chester caught religion. The Reverend took him swimmin' and the devil must have drowned. Uncle Chester he was big, he was mean and even vicious.
Cowboy, you're like a Mustang driftin' with the wind. Riding clear of fences that might close you in. Your wild, restless spirit keeps you searchin' for higher ground.
Caravan of yellow wire. And crawling across the plains. Rolling along in a single file. Like a slow moving train. . It rumbled down out of the mist. Into the early morning light.
Pack up your old guitar cowboy roll up your old sleepin' bag. It's time you got to movin' cause your life is startin' to drag. You ain't leavin' nothin' but faces the same stars watch you at night.
Every time the end of the month. Finally rolls our way. We've got just enough money honey. To see that the bills get paid. . But this time we've got an extra hundred dollars.
Headed for Wyoming in 1882, a woman, a team and a wagon. Gonna make our dreams come true. Settled in the foothills of the big horn mountain slope. Life is sweet, we lived on the meat of the deer and the antelope.
When the rodeo was over. We're all go to the room. We're drink some beer, relax awhile. And sing some cowboy tunes. . That old guitar we passed around.