Mommas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

from by Bart Budwig

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about

Song written by Ed and Patsy Bruce

lyrics

Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
They'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold.
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded levis,
And each night begins a new day.
If you don't understand him, an' he don't die young,
He'll prob'ly 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.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.

Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms 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.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.

credits

from Whisky Girl, released October 5, 2012
Marshall McLean (Vocals), John Nuhn (Upright Bass), Jay Kardong (Pedal Steel), Cooper Trail (Drums), Bart Budwig (Acoustic Guitar, Vocals), Adam and Jordan Miller (Group Vocals)

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about

Bart Budwig Moscow

Bart Budwig grew up on the Idaho Palouse, with a pawn shop trumpet and a heart as big as a skyscraper. Bart learned melody from jazz charts, and learned that fault-lines in big hearts create drifting continents and forge new mountains. Everyone close to him disappeared, whether to death or Texas, and from Texas he got a letter from Waylon Jennings entreating him to pick up a guitar and a pen. ... more

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