The Last Living Cowboy

Thunder comes down through the backstreets of town

As an Airflow Jet Chrysler glides by.

He sits alone behind the Custerdome

And watches the lights in the sky.

Oh, this was the wide-open prairie,

And these were the outskirts of town

Before they paved over the creeks and the dirt roads

And tore all the honky-tonks down.

He's the last living cowboy,

He's a lost and lonesome refugee,

Singin' whatever spirits ride through here tonight,

Here's to my compadres and me.

Wide-open spaces are yesterday's news

As the world reaches out to touch the stars,

And all of the good things a Texan once knew

Went out with the third world war.

He fades to a dream as the satellite sings

To the words of an old troubador,

And it takes him away on a bright summer day

To a world that isn't turning anymore.

He's the last living cowboy,

He's a lost and lonesome refugee,

Singin' whatever spirits ride through here tonight,

Here's to my compadres and me.

Out in the west there's a stillness tonight

As he lays down to rest his weary mind,

Strange music and laughter drift out of a lonely room

From a better place in time.