Excellent point .And yes, cowboys, bricklayers, soldiers, lawyers,rugby players etc. all have the capacity to love each other.
Rob
Cowboys are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other
When I heard Willie Nelson's "Bird on a Wire" on Tower of Song tribute CD, I only thought it's typical country howling (Johnny Cash version was the best to me). Anyway, seeing Nelson's eyes and face and shaking hands while he performed the song during Hall of Fame broadcast, I knew it's genuine, from the heart. kd lang's Hallelujah was the best cover of that song ever, of course (strange, she didn't leave any impression on me when I got the CD last year), but Willie Nelson struck that rare Cohen chord somewhere on his guitar. Now I think I will try to get his latest CD (somehow I always prefered late albums by such artists). [Voila, Kush - this one is for you:-)]
Leonard Cohen Newswire / bookoflonging.com (retired) / leonardcohencroatia.com (retired)
Hey thanks buddy. Going by what I can sense of your tastes you may like the It Always Will Be CD by Willie Nelson[Voila, Kush - this one is for you:-)]
Here's a nice song about cowboys that everyone knows...by Willie and Waylon
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and 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
Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's
and each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young
He'll probly just ride away
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and 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
Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornin's
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
And 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 and 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
and here's another from Willie....
My heroes have always been cowboys
I grew up a-dreamin' of bein' a cowboy,
and lovin' the cowboy ways.
Pursuin' the life of my high-ridin' heroes,
I burned up my childhood days.
I learned of all the rules of the modern-day drifter,
Don't you hold on to nothin' too long.
Just take what you need from the ladies, then leave them,
With the words of a sad country song.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
Cowboys are special with their own brand of misery,
From being alone too long.
You could die from the cold in the arms of a nightmare,
Knowin' well that your best days are gone.
Pickin' up hookers instead of my pen,
I let the words of my years fade away.
Old worn-out saddles, and old worn-out memories,
With no one and no place to stay.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
My heroes have always been cowboys
I grew up a-dreamin' of bein' a cowboy,
and lovin' the cowboy ways.
Pursuin' the life of my high-ridin' heroes,
I burned up my childhood days.
I learned of all the rules of the modern-day drifter,
Don't you hold on to nothin' too long.
Just take what you need from the ladies, then leave them,
With the words of a sad country song.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
Cowboys are special with their own brand of misery,
From being alone too long.
You could die from the cold in the arms of a nightmare,
Knowin' well that your best days are gone.
Pickin' up hookers instead of my pen,
I let the words of my years fade away.
Old worn-out saddles, and old worn-out memories,
With no one and no place to stay.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.