Sitting here alone,
I still don't understand
They're up in outer space
The boys in the band
They left me here to stay
Spitting out some sand
And now I'm going down
With a bottle in my hand
Drunk on L.A. Doga beach
Seven in the morning
This drinking is no fun
Bottle after bottle
Unitl the day is done
Before it's even dawning
Then drinking all day long
The only thing I hear is me
Singing my song
Drunk on L.A. Doga beach
I hope they'll be back
And take me from this place
So I tune my balalaika
Waiting for that day
But when I start
Mamas, 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, an' he don't die young,
He'll prob'ly just ride away.
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.
Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and 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.
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.