I'm sittin' in a city filled with people cars and smokeThe walls are closin' in on me my heart's about to chokeThe world becomes a foggy dream and I no longer seeThe dirty concrete canyons where I have come to beCause a cowboy rides the mountains and the draws inside my mindWith his Buckskin underneath him and his pockets full of timeAnd I can hear his spurs a jinglin' the chimes of his slappin' tackAs his horse lopes up a ridge with the moon light on his backHe rides into a bearin' country not meant for him aloneFor a lovin' dark haired lady waits for her cowboy to come homeWell his hat was made in Texas and his chaps are bat wing styleHis saddles made by Hauser he rides it all the whileIt glistens with silver conches tap adores for his feetHe's got a chew of Copenhagen tucked inside his cheekIn fact the only thing that saves me here from goin' plumb insaneIs that cowboy poundin' leather down in the coolies in my brainAnd I can hear his spurs a jinglin'...