|I DO NOT LEAD A COWBOY'S LIFE|
I do not lead a cowboys life, though I was raised by some.
I did not wish to fill my fridge by riding on my bum.
So off I went to hi-tech school, computers as my trade.
I thought I had escaped the ranch with choices I had made.
Some years went by and I decided I should get a wife.
I found a town along the beach where we could make a life.
Then traipsed down to the Square Dance Hall to see who I could find.
Her dancing style and beach physique sure made up my mind.
It wasn't long 'til we were hitched, and entered wedded bliss.
Just us, three cats, two dogs, a horse; Hey! what the heck is this?
I looked around at my new life, and I just had to stare --
My wife sure seemed just like my ma, with critters everywhere.
Before I knew it we were raising horses, cats and dogs.
We pondered whether we should add chickens or maybe hogs.
We sold the kittens and the pups to buy our horses hay.
Horses though, take several years 'til they begin to pay.
We had to move away from town, our critters didn't fit
The house we had, its tiny yard. The neighbors said to git!
We moved again, across the land, with our menagerie,
Our herd had grown to where we had to get some feed for free.
Now we live on our small ranch, with pastures growing hay,
But all them critters sure do make for one long day.
I'm up each day way too soon for morning chores and such.
Then finally get to my computer, the job I love so much.
My commute is longer than I'd like, to go down the hill to work.
But critters need to eat, so my duty I won't shirk.
These days with any car, you know, my gas bill weighs a ton.
We live up in the hills, in the Valley of the Sun.
When my brain is just too tired, I head home to relax.
And learn that fences need repair, and pipes have brand new cracks.
Those horses seem to think that breaking things is fun.
We've fifteen now, and all their play sure keeps me on the run.
More years go by, our kids are grown, with lives they call their own.
I think about retiring soon, to reap what I have sown.
But I can't quit my job, not yet, I'll tell you true --
The cowboys life (that I don't lead) would consume me if I do.
When I'm not out riding fence, or stacking bales of feed,
Or taking cats to some big show, or fixing where there's need,
My fridge stays full, I can't complain, and I do love my wife,
But all around I turn to look and see a cowboy's life.
Oh sure, it's different than it was back in my grand-dad's day,
But a cowboys life don't change that much, is what I've got to say.
Cowboys work too hard for me, I'd rather sip my Rum,
Just typing at my computer screen, yep -- riding on my bum.
[© 2005,2006 - Jesse Chisholm]