| Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
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| Don’t let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
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| Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
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| Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
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| 'Cause they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
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| Even with someone they love
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| A Cowboy ain’t easy to love and he’s harder to hold
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| He’d rather give you a song than silver or gold
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| Budweiser buckles and soft faded levis
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| And each night begins a new day
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| If you can’t understand him, and he don’t die young
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| He’ll probably just ride away
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| Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
|
| Don’t let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
|
| Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
|
| Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
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| 'Cause they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
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| Even with someone they love
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| A Cowboy like smoky old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings
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| Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
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| Them that don’t know him won’t like him and them that do
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| Sometimes won’t know how to take him
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| He ain’t wrong, he’s just different but his pride won’t let him
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| Do things to make you think he’s right
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| Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
|
| Don’t let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
|
| Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
|
| Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
|
| 'Cause they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
|
| Even with someone they love |