Paroles de Sad Cowboy Song
I bet you heard lots of talesAbout love, about glory.
That's 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.
(Guitar and drum solos) To cover my ass.
My guitar ain't got strings.
My gun doesn't shoot.
Ooooh, this life stinks,
And so do my boots.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
(Guitar solo)
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.
(Guitar and drum solos) To cover my ass.
My guitar ain't got strings.
My gun doesn't shoot.
Ooooh, this life stinks,
And so do my boots.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
(Guitar solo)
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