THE LAST COWBOY

“There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will
They range the field and rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest
They’re a rolling stone, and it’s bred in the bone
They’re the men who won’t fit in”