Here comes daddy's little cowboy. Isn't he a sight?
All dressed up in his western outfit, lookin' for a fight.
He packs a great big six-gun pistol, one that really shoots.
His spurs they jingle-jangle on his sho'-'nough cowboy boots.
Daddy's little cowboy, the toughest of galoots,
With his western hat, his six-gun gat and his sho'-'nough cowboy boots.
Here comes daddy's little cowboy, shootin' up the town.
He's got the rustlers on the run. He's 'bout to mow 'em down.
Before he goes to sleep tonight, he'll run 'em all upstairs,
Then lock 'em up in his bedroom jail, and make 'em say their prayers.
Come on, daddy's little cowboy. Lay that pistol down.
You shot up everything in sight. You've really mowed 'em down.
You've got the rustlers all in jail, and now they'll have to pay,
So come on, little buckaroo. It's time to hit the hay.
Yeah, he's daddy's little cowboy, all tucked away in bed
With his western hat, his six-gun gat, daddy's cowboy sleepyhead.
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