Well,
I ain't the type of cowboy that you'll see on TV.
Wasn't near as purty as my mama wanted me to be.
Well,
I grew up on the ranches just cussin' all day long,
breakin' them damn broom tails and the hummin' old dirty songs.
Whiskey tends to make me high and sad songs
make me cry and purty women break my heart
almost every night.
Well,
I run on beans and nicotine,
I'm a real-life buckaroo.
And my heart's not peered,
my boots ain't clean,
and I never tell the truth.
Well,
if there's anything under my hat besides the cattle biz,
well, I just can't seem to
remember what it is.
Yeah,
I'm thinkin' it's kinda crude,
but my lovin' gets plum rank.
Them girlies just don't understand me,
snortin' round their planks.
When I take a nasty fall,
I'll cuss until I'm blue,
then I'll get right up and on again,
just like you're supposed to do.
But it ain't because I'm so brave,
all that stuff's just talk.
My daddy says the reason is I'm dumber than a box of rocks.
Yeah,
whiskey tends to make me high and sad songs make me cry,
and purty women break my heart almost every night.
Well,
I run on beans and nicotine,
I'm a real-life buckaroo.
And my heart's not peered,
my boots ain't clean,
and I never tell the truth.
This song ain't about no strawberry
run or no rampaging herd of steers.
This is just a type of cowboy song you probably don't like to hear.
This song ain't got no message and won't be a purty in your ear.
This song is just one of them there,
well,
this song is just one of them there,
these here.
Yeah,
whiskey tends to make me high and sad songs make me cry,
and purty women break my heart almost every night.
Well,
I run on beans and nicotine,
I'm a real-life buckaroo.
And I smell like a litter of puppies and hardly ever tell the truth.