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 'Cause they'll never stay home and they're always alone Even

Have no reason to doubt it Someday will we know all about it If time has no end and if time has no end A billion years a trillion years what then is infinity A circle an eternal loop It can drive you crazy searching for the truth Before we were babies

Feel like a stranger in this place, I wanna see your face. I've been missing you, I've been missing you lately. I've been needing you lately, when the sun goes down. I don't know where to find you, so I just drive around. I've been needing you, I've been

Say goodbye, my friend Here's your promised end Be a part of the grand parade Along we're driven On and on, it's a grand parade We're one, we're so sorry to say It's all the same, you will see On this grand parade

You, you, the other half of me, me The half I'll never be-e The half that drives me crazy You, you, the better half of me, me The half I'll always need, need We both know We're better in stereo Better in stereo, beter in stereo Better in stereo, b-better

Somewhere unforgiven Time will wait for you I will wait for you Drive to the night Far as it goes Away from the daylight Into the afterglow Down on the street Just let the engine run

Just this once Listen to the words I say If you want I will I’m there until the end of time Always a stranger in a crowd You want someone to blame The one who drives the rusted nail But who’s left will never care Pretending becomes a chore

Every time you attack It doesn't drive me to fight you back That I'll never let it be World War III No you cant have World War III If there's only one side fighting And you know That there's lessons left to learn And then I know

I still drive a pickup, I still wear boots Red, white and blue are the colors I bleed I grew up country, I'm proud of my roots I'm a Johnny Cash junkie and a Buck Owens freak Three cords and some down-home soul Some things never grow old I grew up on

I've been rollin' on the freeway I've been riding 85 I've been thinking way too much And I'm way too gone to drive I got anger in my chest I got millions on my mind And you didn't fit the picture So I guess you weren't the vibe I come through with