I see a Cowboy walking down the street… He looks like he’s a stranger here, from a place I have never been. He tips his hat at the ladies and they are all smiling back at him. If I bought myself a cowboy hat, they still would never smile at me. Because I’m an English man in England, I cannot stand out from the crowd; But the Cowboy walking down this London street, He ain’t looking like no clown.
He owns his style and he walks so proud; That is something I could never do. In this place I am always lost, somehow. Maybe if I went to his land, I could find myself in tune.
He’s heading for his hometown; I’m walking out on mine. I see him at the airport, Waving all those smiling ladies goodbye. When we land over in his land, He just becomes the same as all the rest. I walk into the nearest bar and order myself a drink… Oh my God! I love your accent!
I’m a stranger in a stranger town And I feel as if I’m right at home. I’m so glad I left those London streets; Maybe I could have stayed, but sometimes you just have to go…