Every boy in here is a damn cliché
New hat, all talk, no hands
Got his boots online with the scuffs premade
Damn
I'm lookin' 'round this room like the West died
We're in wild, wild times
He said: Baby, what's your type?
I looked him dead in the eye and told him
Real cowboys who shoot guns
When there's a fight? They never run
Not a cosplay cowboy sippin' Coors Light
But I'll take a John Wayne
Want a real cowboy who shoots straight
A pistol on his hip on his ankle. 38
I ain't never met a Nashville boy who I'd date
But I'll take a John Wayne any day
Every man in here is the same damn lie
Soft jaw, no grit, no spine
Got a story about a fight that he barely survived
You know the type (mhm)
I'm standing in this bar like the truth's gone
Something's very, very wrong
Talkin' to a Broadway Outlaw
Good God
I need a real cowboy who shoots guns
When there's a fight? They never run
Not a cosplay cowboy sippin' Coors Light
But I'll take a John Wayne
Want a real cowboy who shoots straight
A pistol on his hip on his ankle. 38
I ain't never met a Nashville boy who I'd date
But I'll take a John Wayne any day
Oh, oh, oh (hey, hey, hey)
Oh, oh, oh (hey, hey, hey)
Real cowboys shoot guns
When there's a fight, they never run
Not a cosplay cowboy sippin' Coors Light
But I'll take a John Wayne
Want a real cowboy who shoots straight
A pistol on his hip on his ankle. 38
I ain't never met a Nashville boy who I'd date
But I'll take a John Wayne any day