|
Welcome To The Bullpen
COWBOY JUNKIES
Floyd Henderson
Walkin' the prairie with boots all torn
Since the rope broke off his saddle horn
And let that steer jerk him through air
To land face down, cussin' something rare.
The waddie swears to himself never again
Will he let an ornery critter post a win
From trusting too much in worn out gear
That has needed renewal for many a year
No more wild sprees in cow-town saloons
Nor hangin' out with drunken buffoons,
Drinkin' up money he could better spend
Buyin' new tack on which he can depend
To help keep him on the hurricane deck
Of his favorite cow hounder Old Heck
If the crew hits leather 'til it's light
After a herd gets panicked into the night.
He promises himself no cards or carousin'
And to forgo any more all-night browsin'
Among the lost angels down on "the row"
Spendin' too many hours behind his plow
Planting wild oats doomed to a washout
And wakin' next day with many a doubt
Over what happened with Suzie-No-Name;
Seems every time it's always the same.
But though determined and with good intent,
Come Sunday morning his money's all spent.
Cowboys got no heart to save says his grin
We ain't ever happy 'til we're broke again
'Cause money just seems to weigh us down
And it sure can't buy fun outside of town.
So, we ride the wild trail until the last
Dying with happy memories of our free past.
|
|
|
|
|
REVIEW 1
|
|
|
|
