I bet you heard lots of tales
About love, about glory.
That's all [bad word] 
I bet you heard lots of tales
About love, about glory.
That's all [bad word] 
Here goes my story.

I was born in Chernobyl,
Grew up on a farm,
Though my father was dead.
I was son of a gun.

Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.

My sweetheart, Mary-Lou,
She was a folk singer.
I gave her the ring.
She gave me the finger.

She treated me bad--she tickled my tummy.
She done me wrong!
But at least she done me.

Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.

(Guitar and [bad word] solos)

My horse went to heaven,
He had too much grass.
I ain't got no pants
To cover my [bad word] 

My guitar ain't got strings.
My gun doesn't shoot.
Ooooh, this life stinks,
And so do my boots.

Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.
Whoa-oa-oa, the Sad Cowboy Song.