If I were a cowboy
With a six-gun on my hip,
I’d be careful when in a saloon,
‘Cause it would be bad to trip.
I’d keep my buddies close to me
And my enemies far away,
And I’d treat my horse real good
So with me she would stay.
I’d steer clear of the Indians,
But identify with their plight.
I hope they wouldn’t judge me
For having been born white.
I’d probably fly a confederate flag,
But just to avoid making waves.
You might think it’s sort of lame,
That this ain’t how a cowboy behaves.
But if I were a cowboy
With my six-gun handy,
I’d probably vote for gun control.