roommate’s quittin’ smokin’
‘n that’s, that’s just fine.
‘n this woman’s callin’ me cowboy,
‘n that’s, that’s just fine.
let me tell you somethin’,
let *me* tell *you* somethin’,
‘n best, best as I can reckon’,
ain’t any of you listenin’ at this point,
so I can tell you who’re listenin’
I held a line-trimmer eight hours today,
I walked miles ‘n miles today,
I slathered myself in the overcast,
‘n lost myself in the wind–
‘n in about ten minutes,
I’m gonna go outside ‘n fire up one of them Cowboy Killers.
don’t spend but fifteen a month on ’em,
ain’t gonna feel guilty,
ain’t gonna change ‘cept if I want to.
‘n this whiskey tastes better than anything,
‘n that’s, that’s just fine.
from these scars on my hands,
‘n these vices in my veins,
I reckon, I reckon some Moses ain’t far away.
‘n for all the things that got me chatterin’ ‘n chittin’
for all the folks my self upsets,
for all the yells I got to hear,
I just got one:
that’s, that’s just fine.
’cause it ain’t worth a bit on mine.
