
Thinking of all those cowboy stories
Singing songs under a tree so shady
Virtuous heroes we can believe in
A life that attracts the prettiest lady
Thinking of all those cowboy stories
Singing songs under a tree so shady
Virtuous heroes we can believe in
A life that attracts the prettiest lady
You don’t see me when you look my way
Like a ghost – I just don’t seem to appear
Faded into the background of life
Unable to compete with all you hold dear
My kind smile & open arms aren’t a reality
Merely static in your fashion-conscious day
I’m over here trying to catch your eye
Yet my shadow is not even in your way
What more can I do to attract you
The uncool of America
Not enough flash
Eagerly & quietly industrious
But we’re still short on cash
You’re out here ridin’ high on your horse
I’m down here with my heart broken
You’re clearly oblivious to my existence
I wonder if you’ll ever be woken
I don’t have pretty eyes to attract
Nor a beautiful body to distract
A middle aged, middle class white dude
with no street cred
With charm & gentlemanly conduct
instead
I’ll have to choose the proper words
To prevent from being misheard
Where did our youthful exuberance go
Closed off from a litany of feelings of truth
But I don’t want to be like them
Not worried about a bent halo or tarnished tiara
Angst of foregone conclusions
I want something of substance
Never tamed by society’s expectations
A slow, smoldering strangeness
Embracing the stature of being a little weird
Impervious to judgements of being bland
For through and through, I can only be me
Never standing for someone else’s brand
I hope to always be wild enough to be free