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We know the reputations
of real cowboy’s tried ‘n true,
but don’t trifle with their feelin’s
‘cause they’ll play it straight with you.
Now, cowboys ain’t for talkin’—
no excuse—the job ain’t done.
He’ll ask ya to keep up the pace,
an’ accept life on the run.
He expects a workin’ critter—
loyal—by his side
just like his horse an’ faithful dog,
or ticks on a longhorn’s hide.
He’ll give ya time—if he’s got it,
won’t grumble ‘bout goin’ to church,
but don’t be late with his supper,
or leave the poor guy in the lurch.
‘Cause rules are made for follerin’.
In his world, they just gotta be—
From sunup ‘til the sun goes down,
his backside’s all you’ll see.
You’ll work like a dog durin’ harvest—
don’t count on rest any season.
Pull calves in spring—never wear a ring
‘cause it’s ‘risky’ is his reason.
There’s dishes to do—tho’ you’ve got the flu,
there’ll be no rest for the weary—
So, grit your teeth, take the grief,
an’ for heaven sakes, don’t get teary.
You’ll learn how to drive a tractor,
an’ maybe even buck bails,
pray the rain don’t come early,
nor wind that blows up a gale.
With hair that’s frazzled an’ dirty,
black soot on your upper lip,
he’ll be by your side—ya got nothin’ to hide
for looks—he don’t care a lick.
He thinks of you as his partner,
so take the good with the bad—
You’ve replaced his ‘good timin’ buddies,
for the best life he’s ever had.
Sure, he’ll sit an’ tell of the old days,
get that far away look in his eye,
but tho’ your long tresses are gray now,
he’ll stick with ya—do or die.
When older—his legs will be crooked,
his back will be bent—mostly sore,
but be glad ya married a cowboy
‘cause he’ll love ya, an’ that’s for shor’.
Advise From a Cowboy's Wife
by Tamara Hillman…..©2006
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