Текст Ray Price – Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
And don’t let ’em pick guitars or drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
They’d rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levis
And each night begins a new day
If you don’t understand him, and he don’t die young
He’ll probably just ride away

Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars or drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home, they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms, clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
Them that don’t know him won’t like him and them that do
Sometimes won’t know how to take him
He ain’t wrong, he’s just different but his pride won’t let him
Do things to make you think he’s right

Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars or drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home, they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars or drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love