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
And if he don't die young,
He'll probably just ride away.
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.
Cowboys like smoky 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 don'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
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.
They'll never stay home
And they're always alone,
Even with someone they love.
(End)