Don'T Call Me No Cowboy

The little boy threw down his hat And marched right from the room— The TV on with nightly news Of murder, muggings and doom. The grandpa called out to the hall, “What’s the matter lil’ pard? Come back in here and cowboy up, Don’t be takin’ life so hard!” The kid slunk back into the room, This grandson they named Roy, And with disgust and mistrust said, “Don’t call me no cowboy!” “I reckon that you’re right upset,” His granddad did allow, “Pick up your brand new cowboy hat And let’s walk to the corral.” Then as they leaned on that old fence That seldom now was used, The old cowpoke now listened to His grandson vent his blues: “I keep hearin’ on the TV,” Slowly spewed the little lad, “How some wild folks are just “cowboys” And ain’t nothin’ but pure bad. “They even called our president A cowboy behind his back— Like it was something terrible Or something that he did lack.” The granddad stroked his long mustache, Then told that boy what’s so— “Son, bein’ a cowboy’s a good thing And don’t let them tell you no. “We’re keepers of a heritage That started in the Old West With good God-fearin’ settlers That worked hard and gave their best. “But like all folks, creeds and races, There’s the bad and the good— It just takes some figurin’ out To see where most folks stood. “There’s always them that question us Because we don’t seem real And try to hoe an honest path And plant instead of steal. “A cowboy’s handshake is his word— He’ll risk his life for what’s right-- He loves his country, that’s for sure And defend her with his might! “Some may think that he’s just too brash And too quick with his gun— He don’t ride life’s ol’ middle road— He does what needs to be done! “The cowboy helped build this country— In that we can be proud— Tell ‘em you’ll always be a cowboy And tell ‘em good and loud!” The little boy looked up relieved And donned his cowboy hat— “I’m sure proud to be a cowboy!” And that was the end of that.