We Ain’t Fake

Salute to the Cowboy Past

I’ve never rode a horse, Or wrestled a steer,

I prefer Chardonnay, Over whiskey or beer.

Can’t tell you the difference, Tween a chink and a chap,

But I’m a cowboy you see, Cause I wear the hat.

I listen to red dirt, Almost everyday,

And I reckon that’s country, Or that’s what they say.

I own a supped up truck, And that makes me true,

Cause ownin a hat and a truck, Is all cowboys do.

This poems a lie, But it’s reality today,

It’s what people think, Of the cowboy and his way.

It’s a shame to think, What we have become,

All the true cowboys, Are off to the sun.

I tip my hat, To the true cowboy past,

And thank God each day, I’m at least one of the last.

Special Thanks to Blake Adams

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