THE COWBOY

He’s a ropin’ ridin’ cowboy,
And he rides the range all day,
Watching out for rustlers—
He will chase them all away;

He wears his boots and spurs that
Jingle when he walks,
With chaps and old felt cowboy hat,
He ‘yes mams’ when he talks;

There’s an old red kerchief on his neck,
His plaid shirt is worn and frayed,
But he won’t give up his outfit,
For that’s the cowboy’s way.

He’s got a gun and holster and
He wears it all the time,
He’s ready to go at it if
The crooks get out of line;

His faithful horse is waiting,
Right outside the kitchen door,
He swaggers as he climbs it,
Keen to ride the range once more;

So, the pistol is a cap gun,
And his ride’s a hobby horse,
And the cattle he is roping
Are the cats and dogs, of course—

But he’s the hero of the wild west,
Always brave and strong and bold –
He’s a ropin’ ridin’ cowboy
Although he’s only four years old.

–Sandra Lee Smith

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