Cifras para Violão Mammas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

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Introdução:
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Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
    
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They'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold.
  
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Lonestar belt buckles and old faded levis,
                    
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And each night begins a new day.
  
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If you don't understand him, an' he don't die young,
                                                  
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He'll prob'ly just ride away.
              
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Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
              
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Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks.
                                                                      
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Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
  
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Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
              
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'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
                                                
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Even with someone they love.
                
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Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings,
    
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Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night.
            
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Them that don't know him won't like him and them that do,
        
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Sometimes won't know how to take him.
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He ain't wrong, he's just different but his pride won't let him,
                                                                
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Do things to make you think he's right.
              
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Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
              
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Don't let 'em pick guitars or drive them old trucks.
                                                                      
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Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
  
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Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
              
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'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
                                                
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Even with someone they love.