Back in the days when cowboying actually existed,
there was a young chap
who wished to be a cowboy.
He had heard all about the romantic life
of the cowboy, etc.
Although history rather well documents
the fact that the cowboy, by and large,
was a pretty scurvy lot,
and unhygienic to boot,
and so were the cattle,
this is a heart -rending tale
prepared to be rendered.
There once was a lavender cowboy,
the hairs on his chest were few.
He wanted to follow the heroes
and to do as the cowboys do.
But he was inwardly troubled
by dreams that gave him no rest.
And when he woke up every morning
he had only two hairs on his chest.
Herpicide and many hair tonics
he spread on morning and night.
But each time that he looked
into the mirror,
only two hairs grew in sight.
He battled for a woman's honor,
and he broke up a hold -up nest.
And he died with his six guns a -smokin',
but only two hairs in his chest.
Thank you.