There's a cowboy in the jungle And he looks so out of place With his shrimpskin boots and his cheap Cheroots And his skin as white as paste
Headin' south to Paraguay Where the gauchos sing and shout Now he's stuck in Porto Bello Since his money all ran out So he hangs out with the sailors Might and day they're raisin' hell And his original destination's just another Story that he loves to tell.
With no plans for the future He still seems in control From a bronco ride to a ten foot tide He just had to learn to roll.
Roll with the punches Play all of his hunches Made the best of whatever came his way What he lacked in ambition He made up with intuition Plowing straight ahead come what may.
Steel band in the distance And their music floats across the bay While American women in muumuus Talk about all the things they did today And their husbands quack about fishing As they slug those rum drinks down Discussing who caught what and who sat on his butt But it's the only show in town.
They're tryin' to drink all the punches They all may lose their lunches Tryin' to cram lost years into five or six says Seems that blind ambition erased their intuition Plowin' straight ahead come what may.
I don't want to live on that kind of island No, I don't want to swim in a roped off sea. Too much for me, too much for me I've got to be where the wind and the water are free.
Alone on a midnight passage I can count the falling stars While the Southern Cross and the satellites They remind me of where we are Spinning around in circles Living it day to day And still twenty four hours, maybe sixty good years It's still not that long a stay.
We've gotta roll with the punches Learn to play all of our hunches Makin' the best of whatever comes your way Forget that blind ambition And learn to trust your intuition Plowin' straight ahead come what may. And there's a cowboy in the jungle.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
