You know, the way the world has changed could bring an old cowboy to tears
                    There's men with longer hair than Sis and earrings in their ears.

                       Why, just the other day as I was drivin' outa town
                 I seen a feller walkin' down the street with hair both green and brown.

                         Surely it can't be his hair, it has to be a wig
                  Them britches must be borrowed, they're at least three times too big.

                 The poor young man caint' buy a belt, there's a chain around his waist
                     No wonder why he scufls along, his shoes ain't even laced.

                  He's either had a joke played on em', or he's been down on his luck
                    At least that's what I'm thinkin' as I'm slowin' down the truck.

                      I couldn't drive on by em', I just don't believe it's right
                        Not to stop and offer aid to such a sorry sight.

                     I stepped out of the truck and put my Stetson on my head
                  Said, "Son I'd like to help you cause you're lookin' damn near dead".

                      What that feller told me, made both my eyebrows raise
                    He's dressed that way on purpose, and it's all the latest craze.

                    "Hip Hop's wbat they call it", I said "What the heck is that ?"
                    I'd seen better lookin' tragedies been dragged in by the cat.

                      It really must have been a sight to see us standin' there
                      Starched up jeans and shirt next to multi-colored hair.

                    I shook my head and turned away, that's all that I could do
                    And now Dear Lord, I have a favor that I'd like to ask of you.

                    The way that feller looked proved your sense of humor's true
                 But please ... ..don't ever get the notion to build a HipHop Buckaroo.

Copyright © 1997 Mickey Dawes. All rights reserved.

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                          What will they think of next, I pondered
                            As I set there astride my ol' Kack
                        The government says these old saddles aint' safe
                         They've passed legislation regarding our tack.

                          Now, I bet I know what you're a thinkin'
                            Cause I've told you a story or two
                            But I'll betcha my brand new riata
                              That this story's entirely true.

                           It seems that some Federal inspector
                           Who thinks he knows better, of course
                        Says, "we boys are in danger in case of a wreck
                          While we're out there a ridin' our horse."

                      During unscheduled meetings with the old saddle horn
                            There's no safety equipment to help
                    When the Wranglers slide forward and momentum is stopped
                               It'll likely result in a yelp.

                          At this point in time, with a flying dismount
                           Even the Russian judge gives us a ten
                         As the dust starts to settle, the swelling begins
                          For a moment, we regret that we're men.

                             So, in order to stop all the pain
                           And avoid wearin' jeans that are torn
                        The government says all new saddles must have
                              An airbag inside of the horn.

                           The next time that we blow a stirrup
                           And get sideways while ridin' like fools
                          The horn cap will pop, the bag will inflate
                          Thereby, protectin' the old family jewels.

                           When I told all the boys this here story
                           As we sat in the White Elephant bar
                         Old Charley got mad, turned red in the face
                          Said, "this time they've gone way too far".

                             Knowin' that I had him hooked
                               I decide to reel em' on in
                             That aint' all, I started to say
                           While I stood there a sportin' a grin.

                          The next thing we need is a back up alarm
                          That warns folks that are off to the rear
                          And a mirror that's hung on the headstall
                       Saying, "cattle are closer than they really appear."

                       All the boys started laughin', Old Chartey was silent
                           As he sat there just like an old mummy
                       I said, "Don't worry Old Pard, look at er' this way
                         You'd be perfect as a saddle crash dummy."

Copyright © 1997 Mickey Dawes. All rights reserved.

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