Bunkhouse - The Murder City Devils

A cowboy is to the prairie

As a sailor is to the sea

A cowboy is to the prairie

As a trucker is to the highway

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

Well then you never heard a cowboys song

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

Your Daddys not from Montana

Youve never spent the night

Under the big sky

You never been

Left behind for a saddle, and a bottle of rye

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

Well then you never heard a cowboys song

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

Well then you never heard a cowboys song

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

(aaahhh-oooooooo)

(aaahhh-oooooooo)

If you don’t think that cowboys cry

You never been left

For a campfire, and a can of beans

You never been left, for that big sky

For that big sky

For a saddle and a bottle of rye

And a bottle of rye

A cowboy is to the prairie

As a sailor is to the sea

A cowboy is to the prairie

As a trucker is to the highway