I'm not a cowboy don't drive a horse

And Bundaberg Rum's not my favourite sauce

I don't wear chaps or boots and spurs

Unless it's dress-ups and I'm wearin' hers

 

CH I'm in love with a cowgirl

Sweetest peach on the tree

I'm in love with a cowgirl

Shame she don't care about me

 

I know it's only a sweet fashion game

Next week at the office she won't look the same

But here with her sassy and denim stretched tight

She makes even good men wish wrong was right

 

CH

 

BR 1 And when she walks towards me

My heart goes boom boom boompity

But she doesn't even see me for the . . .

 

V3 (½) . . . scrawny-arsed ringer stittin' his tobacca

It's clear to me he's just a two-flute whacker

 

BR2 Why can't she see beyond my advancing years

Receding hairline and my eyes full of tears

 

V4 (½) But I'm not a cowboy cowboys don't cry

And I'm gonna cry yes I'm gonna cry because

 

CH (½) I'm in love with a cowgirl

And she don't care about me

 

CH