Song parody of
My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys
by Waylon Jennings
Here's where you get creative! Use our cool song parody creator to make a totally new musical idea and lyrics for the My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys song by Waylon Jennings.
Simply click on any word to get rhyming words suggestion to use instead of the original ones. You may also remove or alter entire lines if needed — when you're done save your work and share it with our community — have fun!
I grew up a-dreamin' of bein' a cowboy,
And lovin' the cowboy ways.
Pursuin' the life of my high-ridin' heroes,
I burned up my childhood days.
I learned all the rules of the modern-day drifter,
Don't you hold on to nothin' too long.
Just take what you need from the ladies, then leave them,
With the words of a sad country song.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
Cowboys are special with their own brand of misery,
From being alone too long.
You could die from the cold, in the arms of a nightmare,
Knowin' well that your best days are gone.
Pickin' up hookers instead of my pen,
I let the words of my youth fade away.
Old worn-out saddles, and old worn-out memories,
With no one and no place to stay.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
I grew up a-dreamin' of bein' a cowboy,
And lovin' the cowboy ways.
Pursuin' the life of my high-ridin' heroes,
I burned up my childhood days.
I learned all the rules of the modern-day drifter,
Don't you hold on to nothin' too long.
Just take what you need from the ladies, then leave them,
With the words of a sad country song.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
Cowboys are special with their own brand of misery,
From being alone too long.
You could die from the cold, in the arms of a nightmare,
Knowin' well that your best days are gone.
Pickin' up hookers instead of my pen,
I let the words of my youth fade away.
Old worn-out saddles, and old worn-out memories,
With no one and no place to stay.
My heroes have always been cowboys.
And they still are, it seems.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,
Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.
