Mamas Don`t Let Your Babies Grow up to Be Cowboys

Cowboys ain`t easy to love and they`re harder to hold. They`d rather give you a song than diamonds or gold. Lonestar belt buckles and old faded levis, And each night begins a new day. If you don`t understand him, an` he don`t die young, He`ll prob`ly just ride away. Mamas, don`t let your babies grow up to be cowboys. Don`t let `em pick guitars or drive them old trucks. Let `em be doctors and lawyers and such. Mamas don`t let your babies grow up to be cowboys. `Cos they`ll never stay home and they`re always alone. Even with someone they love. Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings, Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night. Them that don`t know him won`t like him and them that do, Sometimes won`t know how to take him. He ain`t wrong, he`s just different but his pride won`t let him, Do things to make you think he`s right. Mamas, don`t let your babies grow up to be cowboys. Don`t let `em pick guitars or drive them old trucks. Let `em be doctors and lawyers and such. Mamas don`t let your babies grow up to be cowboys. `Cos they`ll never stay home and they`re always alone. Even with someone they love.