"Mamas Don't Let Your Cowboys (Grow Up To Be Babies)" lyrics

Mama, don't let your cowboys grow up to be babies
Teach them to hold their liquor while they're young
Raise them on chicken-fried steaks and milk gravy
He's gonna make you proud that he's your son

Tell him ain't nothing wrong with a little ol' wild streak
And it's alright to go howling at the moon
He needs to go out dancing and stomp his feet
Everybody knows that you cuss the band when they quit too soon

I said, "Mama, don't let your cowboys grow up to be babies
No
Let him have those good times before he's old
If he wants to chase those wild, wild ladies
Well, you can't have no roots 'til you sew your oats."

He may wanna ride across the border
And lay down his last dollar on Lady Luck
If somebody says that you sure have raised a wild one
Tell 'em ain't nothing wrong with dipping snuff and driving a truck

Yeah

Mama, don't let you cowboys grow up to be babies
Teach him to hold his whiskey when he's young
Raise them on chicken-fried steaks and milk gravy
He's gonna make you proud that he's your son

Oh, Mama, don't let you cowboys grow up to be babies
Let him have those good times while he's young

I said, "Mama, don't let—"

Sometimes, it gets away