Burial grounds and merry-go-rounds
Are all the same to me;
Horses on posts and kids and ghosts
Are spirits we ought to set free.
Them city slicker pickers got a lot of
slicker licks than you and me
But riding the range and acting strange
Is where I want to be at
I just want to be a Cosmic Cowboy;
I just want to ride and rope and hoot.
I just want to be a Cosmic Cowboy;
A supernatural country rockin' galoot.
Lone Star sippin' and skinny dippin' and
steel guitars and stars
Are just as good as Hollywood and them boogie-woogie bars.
Gonna buy me a vest and head out West
My little Woman and my Self;
When they come to town they're gonna gather round
And marvel at my Little Baby's health.
Now big raccoons and harvest moons keep rollin' through my mind.
Home on the range where the antelope play
is very hard to find.
Don't bury me on the lone prairie; I'd rather play there live.
I'm doin' my best to keep my little pony in overdrive.