Rootin, Tootin, Shootin (or, Cowboys are pretty gay)

As we shoot cans off rotted wood and into the grass

I wonder, are you the copper pellet or the tin?

But just as fast as the bead the thought has come to pass

We've been rootin', tootin', but we ain't been boot scootin'

Despite how you tease me for my soft hands I'll admit

it's been fun, goofing off in the sun, getting shit done

Trading campfire stories and our dumb little tidbits

Before going to bed and polishing our toy guns

It's been over a year since you rode into this town

with each passing day, my hands have only grown rougher

than they were when I held your cheek and you pulled me down

that summer night when the beer got rid of the buffer

But I ain't a queer and you claim that you ain't either

We bring women home and buck loud so the other hears

It's pure testosterone, you'd rather be beneath her 

than actin out boyhood, scuffin' knees and dryin' tears

Playing rough is a selfish desire that needs to be nursed

How ‘bout it cowboy? Let's meet at high noon, see who shoots first