Lyrics:
and beaten into submission
By family, church, school and state.
From then on we're easy game for the powermongers.
Like pathetic circus dogs we hunt out
pretty cowboy just play one tune more
I'd rather hear the fiddle or the touch of one string
Than to see the water gliding or the nightingale sing
Than
strings
He told me if I haven't learned by now
I should try other things
I'm just a boy from South Florida
Never touched a guitar
And then I moved
YOUNG FLANKERS ARE HARD TO COME BY
I hail from west Texas where the cowboy's still king
And that's all that I wanted to be.
I'd watch 'em ride by
for days
And the people I meet always go their separate ways
Sometimes you tell the day
By the bottle that you drink
And times when you're alone all
I'm a seven-inch cowboy
With a tiny pair of six guns.
Five'll get you ten,
I betcha never seen one.
Well I'm a seven inch cowboy
How do you be?
[DJ & (Regina) talking]
Yeah, yeah, yeah got a couple interviews to do today
(Yeah, uh we gotta interview with uh the Wild Cowboys, Sadat X)
Yeah,
infantry
Grew up by the rail tracks
Of my own community
Grew up listening to them puppets preach
Tryna cut them strings
But they always outa reach
America
just to get back home
I'm a cowboy on a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted dead or alive
Wanted dead or alive
Sometimes I sleep sometimes is not for
just to get back home
I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
And I'm wanted dead or alive
Wanted dead or alive
Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for
If I quit my job for the simple life
Honey would you stand by me
If I bought a little cabin on a mountainside
Honey would you stand by me
Would
FOR DAYS
AND PEOPLE I MEET ALWAYS GO THEIR SEPRATE WAYS
SOMETIMES YOU TELL THE DAY
BY THE BOTTLE THAT YOU DRINK
AND TIMES WHEN YOU'RE ALL ALONE ALL YOU
and vaudefillian famous
For singing "Swannee"
Written with words by Irving Ceasar
And music by Ira
Gershwin in 1919 became a big hit for
Jolson in 1920 and was
I'm a seven-inch cowboy
With a tiny pair of six guns.
Five'll get you ten,
I betcha never seen one.
Well I'm a seven inch cowboy
How do you be?
the hills
That's how I would do your job
You don't want no problem here
Not the line you want to cross
Take the rapper over here
And I'll feed him
lead us not into temptation, I
Want you to kiss me, i love you)
You're a good kid
All you lil' cowboy will do a good job for me
Make sure you do it
38 on my hip got me like a cowboy
You can get hit right now boy
Spurred up and I'm dunking(Duncan)
Blow ya block down with that trumpet
38 on my hip
(stronger)
Sailors do it wetter
Soldiers do it better
But cowboys stay in the saddle just a little bit longer
I moved from LA for a good job with pay
tree
Now it was early one spring
And I was tied by my string
In a field of a make-believe farm
When around the house, the boy and the bear
Came
name is Sam Young
What's my name?
My name is Sam Young
Cowboy son of a gun
Strum these steel strings with my calloused hand
Singing some working songs
Smoke in my room I swear it won't go away
Steering wheel it turns but it goes your way
'Cowboy Killers' and a little bit of whiskey
Strings
an instrument and, and in ah six
months I was holding a good job. I ‘s playin' with my father's band – he
had a string band. And we played for weddings,
runnin' wild
'Cause ever since I kissed that saddle goodbye
I’ve been a radio cowboy
Once I picked up that six string nothing was the same
I know every
to get back home
I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted dead or alive
Wanted dead or alive
Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days
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