CHORUS
I'M
JUST A BIRKENSTOCK COWBOY, OUT CALIFORNIA WAY.
I'D
LIKE TO BE A REAL COWBOY, BUT IT JUST DON'T PAY.
SO
I CAME TO CALIFORNIA; BOUGHT ME A THREE-ACRE SPREAD,
PARKED
MY PONY IN THE CORNER, IN A FANCY NEW SHED.
BUILT
A BIG OLE RANCH HOUSE, SPREAD ALL OVER THE GROUND,
THERE
AIN'T ROOM FOR NO CATTLE, BUT I'M SURE CLOSE TO TOWN.
CHORUS
GOT
A JOB IN CALIFORNIA, AT A DEFENSE PLANT,
I'D
RATHER BE OUT THERE A-ROPIN, BUT YOU KNOW I JUST CAN'T.
'CAUSE
TO BE A REAL COWBOY, YOU GOTTA RIDE THE OPEN RANGE,
AND
RIDIN' CIRCLES 'ROUND MY RANCH HOUSE, JUST LOOKS REAL STRANGE.
CHORUS
SO
I WALK AROUND MY REAL ESTATE; GIVE MY PONY SOME HAY,
DREAM
ABOUT THE REAL COWBOY, I HOPE TO BE SOMEDAY.