The skies are dark and gray For a week now it's been raining every day And the Kansas City Kid Is on the couch still tryin' to rope a stray Well he's Crockett, and he's Custer and he's Hickock's right hand man He's tryin' to tame the West But Mom don't seem to understand And she's told him to get ready 'Cause it's more than time for bed And how he wishes he were free, 'Cause he was simply born to be a coooooooooooowboy
Asleep he rides the range On a saddle that has seen its better days And ya hear the coyotes call They sing the sun to rest as evenin' falls Well, make a pot of coffee boys So strong you taste the grain Stretch out on your blanket As he clears his throat to sing Keep your eyes upon him With his Gary Cooper grin It doesn't take much sense to see That he was simply born to be a coooooooooowboy
This concrete city's fenced him in Can't win 'em all, but he'll be on his feet again He'll ride his fantasies 'till then Don't he take after me? He was simply born to be a cooooooowboy
The skies are dark and gray For a week now it's been raining every day And the Kansas City Kid Is all tucked in and dreamin' of the range A cooooooooowboy A cooooooooowboy