Cowboys Lyrics - Sarah Buxton

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Ooh, ooh, yeah.
Ooh, hoo.
Ooh, ooh.

Another Friday night; this place is so pathetic.
These pretty boys are more made up than me.
They color in their hair an' nobody's drinkin' beer.
'Cause they're too concerned about a hundred calories.

Where are the cowboys?
The yippee-yow boys?
Tell me girls, I wanna know.
Don't want a soft-hand;
I want a real man,
To take me to the rodeo:
Where are the cowboys, y'all?
Ooh, ooh.

My life is getting full of metro-sexuals:
Prissy an' primpin'; over-accessorised.
Those fussy clothes they wear, I can't get 'em out, they're here.
I want to be the Princess, ladies cannot get away from.

Where are the cowboys?
The yippee-yow boys?
Tell me girls, I wanna know.
Don't want a soft-hand;
I want a real man,
To take me to the rodeo:
Where are the cowboys, y'all?
Ooh, hoo.

Muscle-up, muddy-chuck, testosterone;
Tender touch an' hot, he's country to the bone.
Yeah, yeah.

:. Instrumental Break .:

Oh, yeah,
Where are the cowboys?
The yippee-yow boys?
Tell me girls, I wanna know.
Don't want a soft-hand;
I want a real man,
(To take me to the rodeo:)
Take me to the rodeo; to the rodeo:

(Where are the cowboys?)
Yippee-yow boys?
(The yippee-yow boys?)
Look around girls,
(Tell me girls, I wanna know.)
Whoo, where are the cowboys, y'all?

(Don't want a soft-hand;)
Yippee-yow boys?
(I want a real man,)
Look around girls,
(To take me to the rodeo.)
Oh, where are the cowboys, Lord?
Tell me, oh, tell me, yeah.
Where are the cowboys girls.

(Don't want a soft-hand.)
(I want a real man,)
(To take me to the rodeo.)

To fade.

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