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Cowboys don’t love like other folks.
We hide our misery behind our jokes.
We do a lot for our foolish pride.
The circuit’s always a good place to hide.
Our restless hearts will mostly stay
safe with the herd, carefully hid away.
There’s maybe no tomorrow with the crazy things we do,
maybe nothing to gain, surely nothing to lose.
Our hearts ain't hard, just locked away.
There ain't much trust left these days.
Maybe our heads have been rode too low,
maybe we feel like there's no place to go.
Victims of someone else’s brokenhearted crime,
maybe we’ve been broke one too many times.
Like the glass house that came falling down,
our spirit’s been left shattered on the ground.
We can’t out-run our loneliness,
can’t stand our emotional homelessness.
There’s only so many times we can cut our loss
before our hand is dealt the final busted flush.
The life we lead will always be our choice.
The softness in our eyes meets the gravel in our voice.
Once our luck runs out, and we fold our hand,
we just move on and ride for another brand.
So as I sit here and think about you,
I know you only did what you had to do,
and I hope I’ll cut your trail some day,
out beyond this earth, out gathering the strays.
There weren’t much left after you touched sky.
All I can do is shed tears until I’m dry,
quit letting myself get lost in your touch,
ride out on the gather and forget what there was.
I’ll never forget and there ain’t nothing to forgive,
so I gotta figure out how to let go and live.
There ain’t nothing left of what used to be “us”,
so it’s time to cowboy up, and forget what there was.
“We ride never worry ‘bout the fall,
I guess that’s just the cowboy in us all.”
- Tim McGraw “The Cowboy in Me”
December 22, 2001
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