Verse 1 He wears an old gray sweatstained hat With a Montana crease Pulled down low upon his eyes Gotta wonder how he sees He rides a Hamley AFork saddle Built in 1952 And he swears that punchin cattle Is just what he was born to do Chorus If he werent an old Vaquero And a two reign HackaMormon Youd swear it wasnt California Verse 2 Close the big steel gate behind ya Built by an LA millionaire Drive a mile past the home ranch Youre in Paradise somewhere Two track trail through live oak trees Cattle drift the golden hills The smell of ocean spray reminds you Youre in California still Repeat Chorus Bridge And he cant afford the taxes On a place to call his own And his truck wont pass emissions And he cant carry a gun Final Verse So he hand braids horse hair bridles Just to pass the time away And he remembers California Before the sixties came to stay Final Chorus And if it werent for the ocean And the rollin central coast And the live oak and persimmon And the canyons he loves most And if he werent an old vaquero And a tworeign HackaMormon Youd swear it wasnt California
hackamormon, california, vaquero, werent, cattle