Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys

Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys - The Hit Co.

Cowboys ain't easy to love

And they're harder to hold

And they'd rather give you a song

Than diamonds or gold

Lone Star belt buckles and old faded Levi's

And each night begins a new day

And if you don't understand him,

And he don't die young

He'll probably just ride away

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks

Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

They'll never stay home and they're always alone

Even with someone they love

Cowboys like smoky old pool rooms

And clear mountain mornings

Little warm puppies and children

And girls of the night

And them that don't know him won't like him

And them that do

Sometimes won't know how to take him

He ain't wrong, he's just different

But his pride won't let him

Do the things to make you think he's right

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks

Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

They'll never stay home

And they're always alone

Even with someone they love

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Don't let 'em pick guitars