Are there any more real cowboys. Left out in these hills?. Will the fire hit the iron. One more time?. And will one more dusty pick-up. Coming rolling down the road. With a load of feed before the sun gets high?. Well I hope that working cowboy never dies.. Not the one that's snortin' cocaine. When the honky-tonk's all closed. But the one that prays for more rain. Heaven knows. That the good feed brings the money. And the money buys the clothes. Not the diamond sequins shining on TV. But the kind the working cowboy really needs.. Are there any more country families. Still working hand in hand. Trying hard to stay together. And make a stand?. While the rows and rows of houses. Come creepin' up on the land. Where the cattle graze and an old grey barn still stands. Are there any more real cowboys in this land?. Are there any more real cowboys in this land?.