Sanguine Tenacious Tidings

Lost Cowpoke

Write an entry from the perspective of the main character of a song...but in your entry, the opposite happens to them (and be creative...don't just rewrite the song!).

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lone-star belt buckles and old faded Levis
And each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young
He'll probably just ride away

Note: I do not write poetry or song lyrics so just follow the story:


Character Perspective:

I grew up in the land of Pennsylvania,
It was a land of factory mania.

Family had some property, I loved boots and ridin horses.
Milken cows was a right bunch of work though.

I got a job right out of high school in a factory
Teacher told mama I wasn’t college material.
First thing I did was buy me a truck and a horse,
Every night us boys stopped for drinks. Then ,
The jobs dried up and the girls went to school.

Followed rodeo for a while I was ridin buckin broncos.
Won a great big buckle, lost all my money drinkin and such.

Can’t sing a song, can’t carry a tune.
My old horse is dead and my truck’s broke down.
Can’t hold a job cause I didn’t learn to type.
Computers don’t make sense, if you know what I mean.
Got married but my wife left to go to school.

Friends say look for a women with land and a good job to
Keep me. All the women turn away, cause they say,
Cowboys like me with a big buckle and no education,
can’t keep a horse proper and don’t know snot.

Guess I’ll just lay down, smoke marijuana till I rot.














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