Cowboys Don't Read Poetry!

Poetry? That’s sissified!
You know it ain’t fer me!
No lace doilie on the dash of MY truck
and don’t ask me over for tea.

I take my rhyme straight, just like my drink,
delivered by Willie or Merle.
With lots of guitar and fiddle strains;
read yore durned old poems to a girl.

I’ll just sit over here and think about cows
and those fences that need a man’s touch.
You go ahead and read if you want,
it sure won’t bother me much.

Say, that’s right purty, whoops didn’t mean that;
no, I didn’t mean the words that you said.
I was only complimenting such a fine hat
as the one you’ve got on your head.

No, you go right ahead, you ain’t bothering me none
as long as you’re sure that you see;
that even though I don’t mind it around,
Cowboys don’t read no po- e - try!