Mammas, 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
Mammas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Never stay home, and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
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
If you don’t understand him, and he don’t die young
He’ll probably just ride away
Mammas, 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
Mammas, 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 poolrooms and clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
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 things to make you think he’s right
Mammas, 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
Mammas, 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 or drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mammas, 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
Alright, thank you very much
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