I bet you heard lots of tales About love, about glory. Thats all bullshit. Here goes my story. I was born in Chernobyl, Grew up on a farm, Though my father was dead. I was son of a gun. Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song. Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song. My sweetheart, Mary-Lou, She was a folk singer. I gave her the ring. She gave me the finger. She treated me bad--she tickled my tummy. She done me wrong! But at least she done me. Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song. Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song. My horse went to heaven, He had too much grass. I aint got no pants To cover my ass. My guitar aint got strings. My gun doesnt shoot. Ooooh, this life stinks, And so do my boots. Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song. Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 17:55:49 +0000
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