Dyin Cowboy

Sometimes you just gotta write a song:

I’m just a dyin cowboy ridin on the range.

I’ve got this pet rattlesnake and he’s a tad deranged.
My boots are way to short and this grass is way to high
And the damn yellow dog I’m with keeps pissin on my thigh.

I’m just a dyin cowboy ridin on the range.
The horse I’m on is too damn fat and my butts got saddle sores.
And my guns are all rusted up they don’t shoot no more.
Not that I got any bullets in my stores.

I’m just a dyin cowboy ridin on the range.
For fifty cents a day I ride you might find that strange.
I never see another soul out on these plains.
Not that anybody would talk to me cause my pants are yellow stained.

Oh I’m just a dyin cowboy ridin on the range.
I’ve got this pet rattlesnake and he’s a tad deranged.
My boots are way to short and this grass is way to high,
And the damn yellow dog I’m with keeps pissin on my thigh.

Peace and Balance,
John :0)