| I grew up dreaming of being a cowboy
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| And loving the cowboy ways
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| Pursuing the life of my high riding heroes
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| I burned up my childhood days
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| I learned all the rules of a modern day drifter
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| Don’t you hold on to nothing too long
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| Just take what you need and don’t look back
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| Were the words of some sad country song
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| My heroes have always been cowboys
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| And they still are it seems
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| Sadly in search of and one step in back of themselves
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| And their slow moving dreams
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| Now, cowboys are special with their own brand of misery
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| From being alone too long
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| To die from the cold in the arms of a nightmare
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| Knowing well that your best days are gone
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| And picking up hookers instead of my pen
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| I let the words of my youth fade away
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| Old worn out saddles and old worn out memories
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| With no one and no place to stay
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| My heroes have always been cowboys
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| And they still are it seems
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| They never stay home and they’re always alone
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| Even with someone they love |