A Texas cowboy went riding,
Over the great Texas plains,
Complete with his boots and his saddle,
Clutching his old horse's reins.
			
Riding way out into nowhere,
What is it he's hoping to see?
Well, you see, this cowboy was different,
This cowboy was a TV.

No longer he's packing a six gun,
For fighting off Indians and foes,
Instead of a rifle and poncho,
He's carrying panties and hose.

And the song that he strums on his guitar,
Is not any old fiddle-faddle,
It's an old Western song, that he hums along,
"Give me my high heels and saddle."

On his legs he wears chaps to protect him,
From sage brush and plants that are shocking,
Tumble weed, cacti and others like that,
Would soon cause a run in his stocking.

His saddle bags bulge out behind him,
Over the old horse's rumps,
They're full of some dresses he got at a sale,
When he felt down in the dumps.

And so he rides out into nowhere,
Just him and his trusty old nag,
Away from the town and the people,
And he can't wait to get into drag.
		
He'll ride out into the desert,
And then he will stop and make camp,
And he'll open up all his belongings,
And his hands will be sweaty and damp.

And he'll put on his undies and dresses,
And make up and high heels and wig,
He'll be transformed into a lady,
When he dresses up for this gig.

When the sun goes below the horizon,
By the fire he'll strum a few bars,
Then he'll put on his favourite nighty,
And fall asleep under the stars.

Do not grieve for the Lone Star cowboy,
His presence was only a trend,
Welcome instead, this pretty young maid,
The future is here now my friend.

Janey Lang
14th. March. 1996.