The Cowboy Way

why oh why'd I have to be a cowboy Riding on the range like Roy and Gene Singing in the saddle with their guitars Strumming to the humming Of the sons of pioneers Young boys were shooting rustlers too Even now the memory lingers Despite the long forgotten years Imagined six guns spun on fingers Blowing smoke and smiling through Poorer times with held back tears Thirty years of working still don't have a single dime No such thing as overtime Dark t' dark is normal every week has seven days Watching dawn awake the sky With fresh coffee and new day I see the answer to the why I live the cowboy way Digging ponds and mending fence Is just a bit of self defense from City life and hassle seen Driving truck and smelling gasoline These boots wa'nt made for walkin'much These lips aint ever prattled such Both old and cracked and losing touch But comfortable tight Wasted words so seldom heard Cep' maybe by the herd