Another English Cowboy

I was stood before a crowd of part-time country music fans
They looked at me confused, like I was in a reggae band
No tunes they could line-dance to and no Stetson on my head
A little club in Bolton trying to be the Old Wild West

And I don't want to be
No, I don't want to be another English cowboy

The crowd was getting restless but I knew what I could try
I'd fake a Texan accent and salute the stars and stripes
Some sat still, some shook their heads and I stood there feeling lost
Then a guy in a sheriff 's hat stood up and shouted 'Why don't you f...go away?'

And I don't want to be
No, I don't want to be another English cowboy

Then the glass began to fly and I was worried for my health
I wished the gig was over or that I was some place else
Soon the last song came around and I thanked them through my teeth
Grateful that I'd made it through and happy I was leaving in one piece

And I don't want to be
No, I don't want to be...I don't want to be
No, I don't want to be another English cowboy