We are truly a different breed,
A breed to be dealt with indeed,
We love the plains,
And the mountain range,
And all the places in between,

We thrive on tradition,
We rely on recollection,
We two step and recite,
All through the night,
Even though we’re far from perfection,

We have been gifted for sure,
Our lives are far from pure,
Our lives we truly love,
We love God above,
And we push cattle the prairie o’er,

The life of a cowboy is hard,
His hands and legs are scarred,
Though wounds and scars remain,
And you’ll never hear him complain,
He’ll always tell stories from the heart,

So when you see that old bent hat,
Why don’t you take the time to chat,
Please look past his dirty coat,
Forgive the gravel in his throat,
Ask where he’s been, and he’ll tell you where he’s at,