You could say I've reached that time I know my trade,
In that I know how to care for my guitar, and I know how to get her played.
I'm comfortable when I sleep on the floor,
I've played a fair few shows and I'm going to play more,
And all along the while,
I was just trying to make people smile.

I play cowboy chords
For these air-conditioned words
About longing for the prairie and living in the suburbs.
I sing simple songs
About nights and wrongs,
About finding that trail that leads away from everyone.

Darling I know I did not give you much;
I got a-hungry for a-wandering, and then I didn't come back for months.
But I kept your picture by my side,
It was in my wallet, it was on my mind,
And every song I know contains a whisper of your soul.

So my days slip away all the same:
Rolling wheels, hotel rooms and going grey,
Casting glances over my shoulder as I go,
Trying not to dwell on things I do not know.

I know my trade out on these boards with cowboy chords.