| Cowhand.com |
| |
Well I hires on to this brand new ranch,
it was owned by a bunch of fancy pants
but they did have several high dollar trucks and
trailers
Well there was barns and pens that was under construction
and I was informed by phone I'd receive my instruction
in a video arriving in a padded mailer
It said sort the cows in pen 11,
and then bring us the tags so we can scan 'em
and I didn't have a clue but I took a sack full
of ‘em to headquarters
There was a lady at a computer typing in numbers,
and the more she typed the more I felt dumber
And she said "Yep 501's too old gotta go
back and sort her" and I replied, |
| |
I ain't no cowhand, cowhand.com,
I don't know were I just landed scroll me back
to were I'm from
Cause I don't need no print out telling
me that its time to wean
never seen a calf pulled by a machine
and this information highway
keeps my pony sore and lean
I ain't no cowhand.com |
| |
Well my security pass slash photo
ID,
opened the gate and picked out a horse for me
and you punch in a code and it would start an
automatic feeder
course you still had to step over what them cows
are downloading,
and you did hair analysis with a digital modem
and put a cow up on a screen and it'd tell you
which bull's gonna breed her |
| |
well then they give me this laptop for my saddlebags
and it got dusty out riding drag
and I knew the boss was gonna have my hide
well they said just boot it up, open the windows,
something about a mouse and a bunch of menus
so I hauled off and kicked it, I kept the windows
closed,
cause it was freezing outside |
| |
I ain't no cowhand, cowhand.com,
I don't know were I just landed scroll me back
to were I'm from
Cause I don't need no print out telling
me which stall to clean
never seen a horse shod by a machine
and this information highway keeps
my pony sore and lean
I ain't no cowhand.com |
| |
well then they start talking downsizin' and
linkin' up
I told 'em I was heading for the tall and the
uncut
they could stick that pentium right in their AOL
they was faxing emails and hazing the web,
and they even had a megabite ram and that sounds
inbred
I recon' those people would'nt know the difference
between a hard drive and a paper trail |
| |
I ain't no cowhand, cowhand.com,
I don't need no information higway to get back
to where I'm from
and I don't need no printout telling me which
colt is green
never seen a bronc broke by a machine
besides this little cell phone just don't fit
good in my jeans
I ain't no cowhand.com
I ain't no HTTP://all one word, all little letters,
www.Cowhand.com
Yep that’s what you get when you try to
cross one of them computers
with a cowboy |
|
| |
| Everybody's
Hocked a Saddle |
| |
Chorus – Harmony on 2nd and
3rd chorus only
Everybody’s
hocked a saddle;
most hands
have sold a favorite pair of spurs
It’s part and parcel of a cowboy’s
life
It’s just to test your nerve; you’re
too broke to pay attention
when your riding' through a rough strain of luck
but I still love my life, wouldn't trade it for
a million bucks |
| |
cause I got an old hat that fits me just fine,
a pair of chinks that are worn out but custom
made
I get to see the horses shed in early spring
go to a jackpot roping' if I get paid
I've chased lions up on Big Bug mountain
and shod some horses down on the track
I've smelled hay that would take your breath away
hitchhiked from here to who knows were and back
Why I've even entered a couple of indoor rodeos
Slept under a teepee made from a wagon fly
me and an old bronc swam the Wolamoth River one
time
and he was gentle when we come out the other side
I set chokers on a high lead logging crew
way up on the Oregon coastal range
I even bought one brand spankin' new pickup truck
then had to survive for days on ashtray change |
| |
| Chorus |
| |
but there is one thing that really sticks in
my craw
I sold my first and only bronc saddle like a fool
it went from priceless to a couple of hundred
dollars
cause I needed to buy me some horse shoeing tools
but you know I just did what I had to do at the
time
I sold something I had to buy something I was
needing
and the truth is I was happy to have the money
just whatever it took to keep my old pocketbook
from bleeding
but two hundred bucks, what was I thinking,
that's less the commission
I'm here to tell you that whoever's got that saddle
could name their price if that little boy of mine
could wear just a little basket stamp off of that
old association |
| |
Chorus
Tag |
|
| |
| Horse In
Heaven |
| |
Had to bury my best horse last evening
It was the saddest thing I’ve ever done
We’d rode a lot of hard miles together
He was a big hearted son of a gun
And in the wake of his final few moments
His eyes seemed to say we’ll meet again
And then and there I was faced with a question
That I’d been ponderin’ since I don’t
know when |
| |
Chorus
Will there be horses in heaven
A place where all good horses go
Will the studs and the mares
Be running in pairs up there
When He gathers His fold
Dear Lord,
I’m sure needin’ to know |
| |
In my sorrow I turned to the bible
Like my mom and dad taught me to do
And I read in the great revelation
‘Bout
the one they call faithful and true
It is written that He and His armies
On white horses will come back at last
And my heart sang for joy with the answer
To a question all cowboys have asked |
| |
| Chorus |
|
| |
| If They
Only Knew A Cowboy |
| |
Everywhere you look these days
there’s kids that look all kinds of ways
they still ain't figured out what they want to
be
but what they got's not who they are
and living fast won't get 'em far
and it's hard to find a hero on TV |
| |
Chorus
But if they only knew a cowboy, they'd
probably want to be one
cause he can show you how boy, if you've ever
seen one
well he's tough as you'll find and he's callous
but he's kind
and he knows were he comes from
if
the kids these days learned the cowboy
ways,
they'd probably want to be one |
| |
Some folks say he's a dying breed that the west
is won
and now there ain't no need to live
like you was born a hundred years ago
back in the days when your word was a nod,
when you'd fight for your country and your faith
was in God
and the code of the west was branded deep in your
soul |
| |
| Repeat Chorus |
| |
Tag
cause he's tough as you'll find and he's
callous but he's kind
and he knows were he comes from
if the kids these days learned the cowboy
ways,
I bet they'd want to be one |
|
| |
| One gate
from home |
| |
There's a lonley ranch wife in the valley
out dryin her clothes on the line
but her mind's far away with the cowboy she loves
at his high camp way up in the pines
all summer long she's been workin
tenden the place on her own
she's seen a few strays, so she knows any day
he'll be one gate from home |
| |
he's bringing yearlins back down to the flat
lands
to stay ahead of that first winter snow
and the chill in his bones as the low cattle moans
spurs a longin down deep in his soul
every summer without her seems longer
she's the only love he's ever known
he'll ease down the north face to save him some
time
and he'll be one gate from home |
| |
chorus
he'll take down his top rail
turn out his horses
and walk through the pastures he's sown
and never more roam
he's just one gate from home |
| |
a bolt of lightening a loose shoe and a deadfall
this time he's busted up bad
but his cowpony makes it, he watches him lope
away
the second best friend he's ever had
each snow flake that hits his face melts a memory
of her love and how she let him roam
with his eyes towards the heavens
and the last trial he'll ride
he's just one gate from home |
| |
| chorus |
| |
and they'll take down his top rail,
turn out his horses
as he walks through the pastures he's sown
never more roam
he's just one gate from home. |
|
| |
| Roped Into
Love |
| |
There are many ways to find true love,
if you wait they say love will find you
But just who are they and what do they know,
their foot’s not the one that needs the
shoe. |
| |
Well I was sitting all alone and a braiding
me a rope,
dreaming of the gal I love
I'd been too long lonesome out in these old hills
and push had finally come to shove
Well I ain't long on brains but I ain't short
on gumption
if'n there's a job I gotta do
So I saddles up my top horse and coils up my rope
and down the trail I flew
Oh well says I, it's do it now or die,
tonight might be my best'est chance
Slap my pony in the rear asking for another gear,
hooked it down to the Grange Hall dance
well I was looking 'bout as poor as a toothless
coyote
when I went and paid my entry fees
but my gullet was jammed so plum full of sand
man there weren’t no stopping me
I had a full head of steam and a one track mind,
like a freight train I hit that door
Well that dance hall was darker than a Lobos cage,
but I finally found the dancing floor
I stopped the band in their tracks with a shrill
stud whistle
and I run in a swinging my twine
all the dry mares in the joint pulled up their
picket fences
as I bustes through their dancing line
I finally spot my little darling with her diamond
ear tag,
she was dancing like her feet were hot |
| |
I was waiting on that fellow that was draggin'
her around Page 2
to set me up a real sure shot
but he had her around the neck and she was handling
wild,
double hocking her was gonna be hard
well she was moving faster, and a jumping higher
than a cricket in a chicken yard
well she bounced off the wall then back into the
crowd
before I could get up to her
I was whoopin and a hollerin
and a swingin and a scatterin them folks like
flies on fresh manure
But she had more moves than any lemonaider steer,
so when I finally gets the perfect gap
I feeds in a coil and I widens out my loop
and I throwed down a big old trap
well she hops in so pretty and I pulled my slack
and I set myself for the jerk
if I'd a been riding my heel horse I'd a gone
to the horn
but tonight that wasn't gonna work
I was draggin her and looking for a snubbin post
hoping I could finally end this chase
Well you should have seen the wreck when I clothes
lined the band
and I dallied round the upright bass
Well I ran down the rope to flank her
and the fight was on she was a cougar in a calico
skirt
two gentle half hitches and a little tender hoowy
why I couldn't let her get hurt
well that joint got as quiet as a tree full of
owls
when I slipped the wedding ring upon her hand
and it worked out like I'd been hoping a real
matremonial ropin'
she said I do and I nodded I'm your man
now this ain't no fabrication I'ma telling ya’ll
the truth
it's a tale I won't try to defend
cause it comes right straight from the horses
mouth
and not from the other end. |
|
| |
| STALLIONS |
| |
He can tell when storm clouds are comin’
He can feel the cold wind in his mane
But he won’t run and hide
He’ll just turn his backside
To the wind, the cold and the rain
Well he’s fought his fair share of battles
And he’s wearin’ his share of scars
Where those studs dang near killed him
That mare tried to geld him
It’s amazing he’s made it this far |
| |
Chorus
But stallions don’t
run when it thunders
Stallions don’t need to be warm
Stallions don’t break, they just stand there
and take it
And wait for a rainbow to form
Stallions don’t run from the storm |
| |
One day some cowboy will catch him
He’ll take him and break him to ride
He’ll tattoo his lip, put his iron on his
hip
But he won’t get a brand on his pride
Then one night when that ranch house is quiet
And all the kids are tucked in up stairs
He’ll flip up his tail, kick off that top
rail
And he’ll head for the hills and his mares |
| |
| Chorus |
|
| |
| The Cowboy
Song |
| |
Pushing horns weren't easy like the movies says
it was
I don't recall no dance hall girls and motel rooms
with rugs
we worked hot and tired and nasty and rode our
ponies head too low
and there were all those nights we couldn't sleep
cause it was just to cold |
| |
| and we sang strawberry roan and little
Joe |
| |
Like the night we crossed the river and the
rain began to fall
the water was rising so dang fast we thought it
would drown us all
we lost a lot of steers that day and four or five
good mounts
but when all the boys rode into camp we knew that's
what counts |
| |
| and we sang yippee-ti-yi-yah and amazing
grace |
| |
Cause a cowboy's got his reasons and
a cowboy's got his songs
a cowboy’s got a way of life and
it's almost gone
riding the straightest line he can between
right and wrong |
| |
like the night they broke behind the sand it
took us by surprise
I whistled out to Bonner I'd seen the terror in
his eyes
he rode for all his horse would ride and I know
he done his best
but he crossed over Jordan riding Dunny to his
death |
| |
| and we sang bringin' in the sheaves
and the rugged cross |
| |
so if you see a cowboy he's not ragged by his
choice
he never meant to bow them legs and put that gravel
in his voice
he's just chasing what he really loves and what's
burning in his soul
wishing to God that he'd been born about a hundred
years ago |
| |
| Still singing strawberry roan and little
Joe |
| |
Cause a cowboy's got his reasons and
a cowboy's got his songs
a cowboys got a way of life and it's almost
gone
riding the straightest line he can between
right and wrong |
| |
Repeat Chorus
Tag |
|
| |
| THE GRIP |
| |
He’s just 49, hardly the end of the line
Mighty young to go ponderin all the what if’s
and whys
At a place where trails cross, he’s at a
loss
Have his best years already passed him by
The wood stove warms the rosin on the glove that’s
hard and cracked
D rings clangin on the chair legs where he sat
He still hears the call, but then don’t
we all
He reaches up and mashes down his hat |
| |
Chorus
He runs his hand in the grip, tucks his chin nods
let her rip
And uncovers a secret that he’d
never found
He’d spent his whole life hangin
on to the riggin
Truth is it’s been the other way around |
| |
Yesterday, years ago at the old cow palace show
He filled the bottom hole for his first trip to
OKC
He said “I rode em when they bucked”
Seven finals wasn’t luck
If it weren’t for the money, he’d
of done it for free
Gear bag all torn, split boots plum worn
Shanks and the rowels all layered with rust
They’s all special made for the rugged campaign
Where dreams get sopped up in the dust |
| |
| Chorus |
|
| |
| Triflin'
State of Mind |
| |
Well I'm headed home to you baby fast as this
old truck can go
My mind's been on you all day and it's out of
control
we'll go out we'll get us in some dancin', catch
a picture show, grab a bite to eat,
and some light romancin'
We both worked hard all week and it's Saturday
night
You’re fixed up pretty and you smell
just right
you know all this added together, puts
me in a triflin' state of mind |
| |
without intendin’ to, me and you
have gone in cahoots
I feel like the only one who knows where
they hid the loot
and it may be the moon or the weather
but I sold them steers this morning and
I got a little extra
If being scared means having fun then I'd die
of fright
cause I knew this morning it would be
one of those nights
Like every time we get together it puts me in
a triflin' state of mind |
| |
well you know I never dared to say it
had to be some special way
any time you’re a mind to honey we can
roll in the hay
and we don't need no chicken or no feather to
put us in a triflin' state of mind
state of mind, to put us in a triflin'
state of mind |
|
| |
| A Trucker’s
Just A Cowboy |
| |
The black top ribbon laces through the disappearing
spaces
On the outskirts of the ever growin’ towns
And from this side of the windshield passin’
by a winter wheat field
I just can’t help but slow this diesel down
A rancher’s silhouette stands by a windmill
in the sunset
With some longhorns walkin’ toward him single
file
I can’t even see his face but just the thought
of tradin’ places with him
Stays with me at least a hundred miles |
| |
Chorus
A trucker’s
just a cowboy, tryin’ to make a livin’
on the road
Pushin’ cattle just don’t pay enough
and so I’ll have to pull another load
And there’s no trail half as lonesome
as this highway
But 18 wheels can’t take me where I want
to go
A trucker’s just a cowboy, tryin’
to make a livin’ on the road |
| |
In the great San Juan de Christos there’s
a knee high grassy meadow
Runnin’ three miles by a singin’ mountain
stream
Of all the land that I’ve laid eyes on from
horizon to horizon
It’s a picture painted of a cowboy’s
dream
And every time I make that run from Santa Fe to
Bozeman
And I see it underneath a purple sky
I’d swap this trailer full of cattle, just
to see it from the saddle
And no one that I know would wonder why |
| |
Chorus
Tag
A Trucker’s Just A
Cowboy, tryin’ to make his livin’
on the road |
|
| |
| Wranglers,
Ropers, and Resistols |
| |
Have you ever seen those gals from New York
City
Well they fix up mighty glamorous, kinda tall
and lean
Dressed up in the latest styles from Paris
They’re the kind that grace the cover of
those fashion magazines
Way out west in southern California
I've seen them wearing just enough to keep from
catching cold
But in the Lone Star State, the ladies sure look
great
No matter what their figure, if they’re
young or old... |
| |
They'll be wearing Wranglers, Ropers
and a big white Resistol
Oh, I swear it beats all I have ever seen
them Wranglers, Ropers, and a big white
Resistol
a walking revelation of a cowboy’s
dream |
| |
Those women way up north around Chicago,
They bundle up from head to toe in full-length
furs
and the southern bells down south in Alabama
they wrap a little lace around a pretty face with
a string of pearls
Seems like everywhere you go across this country
Fashions change as quick as women change their
mind
but back home on the range, three things never
change
Deep in the heart of Texas you will always find... |
| |
Them wearing Wranglers, Ropers and a
big white Resistol
Oh, I swear it beats all I have ever seen
them Wranglers, Ropers, and a big white
Resistol
a walking revelation of a cowboy’s
dream |
|
| |
| You Can't
Make A Cowboy Sing The Blues |
| |
Well you can punch a doggie, skin a cat, tan
your hide, tip your hat
even make a horseshoe if you choose
Kick a bucket, trick a rope, cut a calf or let
him hope
but you can't make a cowboy sing the blues |
| |
| Chorus |
| |
Even when his hard luck won't skeedaddle
he won't let it get his dobber down,
cause everything he needs is on his saddle
so he's okay till payday rolls around
Well he might moan like old Hank Senior or yodel
born to lose
but you can't make a cowboy sing the blues |
| |
You can spill the beans drop a line shoot the
breeze to kill some time
go pickup a truck or buckaroo
chuck the wagon clean the plow but it don't matter
anyhow
cause you can't make a cowboy sing the
blues |
| |
| Repeat Chorus |
| |
Tag
Well he might moan like old Hank Senior or yodel
born to lose
but you can't make a cowboy do what he don't want
to do
no you can't make a cowboy sing the blues |
|
