I bet you heard lots of tales About love, about glory. That's all bullshit. I bet you heard lots of tales About love, about glory. That's all bullshit. Here goes my story.
I was born in Montana, 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)
My horse went to heaven, He had too much grass. I ain't got no pants 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.