Cowboy

Oh, the joy of a cowboy, out on the range,

Where the water is clear, and there's no need to change,

For a drink from the pond, or a sip from the tank,

Is as good as it gets, and there's no need to thank.

 

Out in the deep water, where the flavor is pure,

Away from the cows, and their muck and manure,

A cowboy can sip, and not worry a bit,

For the water is cool, and it's a perfect fit.

 

Sure, there may be some bugs, and a few insecks,

But it's all just the same, down a cow puncher's neck,

And though some may say, it should be filtered and strained,

A cowboy knows better, and he's never complained.

 

So here's to the water, so clear and so cool,

And to the cowboy, who's nobody's fool,

For he knows that a drink, from the brim of his hat,

Is as good as it gets, and there's no need for any regrets. ("Cowboy") by Courtney Weaver Jr.