Talking Americana Cowboy Yeeha Blues

Well, I'm sitting right here
On the East Coast of the South Island of New Zealand
Looked out my window and I thought
Well, maybe I'd found heaven
Well, the wind it was just right
And the sun it was sitting high
Then I got a phone call friends
Well, it just about made me cry
Said "Hey you're in one of them American bands
Have I got a show for you"
I said "Nah we ain't American
But well, what would you like us to do?"
He said "Oh well, this is the big time
Well at least big time for you
We're having a hoedown with cowboy hats
Boots, western shirts"
I said "You got any six shooters too?"
He didn't get it
Well I told him "Yeah we got a banjo
And one of them big old bull fiddles too
But we don't sing no cowboy songs
Well that just ain't what we do
And I don't have any spurs
Nor one big old cowboy hat
Besides all my heroes killed cowboys
Rib Fountain said that"
I said "I'm just a humble folk singer
And my only goal in life
Is to tell a couple of stories
Hopefully one or two you'll like"
He said "Yeah I get it, you're an artist
Well you don't have to tell me so
The show will pay real good
Maybe a couple of zeros"
I said "Yeehaw, here we go"
I said "Yeehaw, here we go"

Well a man has got to make a living
In any way he can
Especially when he spends his life
Looking out the window of a van
But it made me a little guilty
And that was the only way to feel
I said "It's twenty bucks a song bro
Fifty if it's Wagon Wheel"
Well I guess nobody's interested
In the stories lost in the Southern Alps
And I guess nobody cares about the metaphors
Locked in our local river mouths
Well I'm just lonely out here
Man I'm just doing what I do
Yeah I've been known to sing American songs
But some British ones too
And Australian, Irish
But mostly ones written here
'Bout next door, down the road
Around the way, it's only what I know
Late great Joe Strummer told me to
When he talks you better listen

Well he liked Elvis and Hank Williams
And I could not but agree
And I love the late night Skynyrd
Man Wednesday night down at the 1D
Well it's Tuesday gone and free, bird
But that ain't all that I'm hearing
It's Barry Saunders, Upper Hutt Posse
Linden Puffin, the mighty Herbs
Shit, put the records on flow
Yeehaw, here we go
I said yeehaw, here we go

Well here I am singing the talking blues
Well Woody Guthrie taught me that
But he also said the rapping ain't as important
It's more about where you're at
Well I want to tell you about the earthquake
The National Party
The dismantling of the state housing system
How pretty the snow looks falling in Arthur's Pass
The late night lights on the water in Lyttelton
All the things I learned criss-crossing
The state highways and byways of New Zealand
I have no time for Nashville, Tennessee
I've been there, stayed at the King's Inn
Played on the street outside Inside Robyn's
Place is a shithole
It's the music business baby
With a capital business
You know, fuck it, what do I know?
Yeehaw, here we go
I said yeehaw, here we go

But I would like to take the time to apologize
To Garner Wayne, the Canterbury Kid
The Plainsmen, the Hamilton County Bluegrass Band
Man I love their shit
Well they're heroes one and all
And they're Kiwis too
Well man it's confusing
What would you do?
Well at least it ain't no watered down reggae music
Here Peter Tosh is coming
Coming to kick your ass
Bill Monroe's coming
Coming to kick mine too
Yeehaw, whoop-dee-doo
I said yeehaw, whoop-dee-doo
I said yeehaw, whoop-dee-doo