Nights like these....

Its nights like these that I just cant sleep,
nothing helps, not even counting sheep,
A million thoughts run through my head,
and honestly all I want to do is go to bed,
Its days like this that cause nights like these,
I hate an office job it just doesnt please,
I dream of being a buckaroo out on my own,
I dream of the desert and not having a phone,
sitting around a fire and takin a dip,
 a fine horse that upon I would sit,
I would wear dirty clothes with a grin,
 trailing all by myself I still wouldn't sin,
my big flat hat and more money in tack,
herding the cows and livin in a shack,
I guess what im trying to say is that this life wouldnt bother me,
I could go the rest of my life being a buckaroo you see,
Now this isnt going to make sense to you city folk,
but has these thoughts run through my head it isnt a joke,
I want a heard of my own with no one around,
just me and my family living off the ground,
riding in hard winters and hot summers are just my style,
Not stacking papers away in a file,
I long for rides just smelling the wild flowers,
but yet im stuck here for 9.50 an hour,
the doors are caving in and im busting out,
ill be on my horse without a doubt,
chasing wild cows and wearing wild rags,
I surely want to do that until i sag,
The things I WANT to learn they cant teach in school,
They say that if you want to be a cowboy your surely a fool,
Its a sad sight to not do what you love,
This world has come to push and shove,
One day I will rope and ride just for me,
and forget about the office job and let it be,
for its the cowboys that built up this land,
all because they are dedicated to the brand,
ITs nights like these that leave my restless,
while my dreams ,well they always leave me breathless.