About the song
There are few songs in country music as instantly recognizable—or as deeply evocative—as Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys. Originally written and recorded by Ed Bruce in 1975, the song took on a life of its own when Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings turned it into a massive hit in 1978. But perhaps the most iconic iteration came later, when it was performed by The Highwaymen—the legendary supergroup featuring Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, and Kris Kristofferson.
The Highwaymen’s version of the song, like much of their work together, wasn’t just a performance; it was a statement. Here were four men who had lived the cowboy life in their own way—restless, untamed spirits who rejected convention and carved out their own paths in music and in life. When they sang about the cowboy archetype—rugged, independent, prone to wandering—it wasn’t just storytelling. It was autobiography.
At its core, Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys is a meditation on the tension between romanticism and reality. The cowboy is a symbol of freedom, adventure, and rugged masculinity, but he is also an outsider, a man destined for solitude. The lyrics are delivered with a knowing, almost weary affection, as if the singers have seen too many young men swept up by the allure of the cowboy way—only to learn the hard way that it comes at a cost.
Musically, the song is a perfect encapsulation of the outlaw country movement that Nelson and Jennings helped define in the 1970s. It blends honky-tonk twang with a slow, steady rhythm, allowing the lyrics to take center stage. The Highwaymen’s version adds an extra layer of gravitas, with each of their voices bringing something unique—Nelson’s unmistakable phrasing, Jennings’ baritone drawl, Cash’s weighty resonance, and Kristofferson’s poetic sensibility. Together, they transform the song from a warning into something almost mythic, a reflection on the American West and the kind of men it produces.
The irony of the song is that while it warns against raising boys to be cowboys, it never fully condemns the lifestyle. If anything, it seems to admire the cowboy’s unbreakable spirit, even as it acknowledges the loneliness and hardship that come with it. This duality is what makes the song so enduring. It speaks to anyone who has ever felt drawn to a life of freedom but understands the sacrifices it demands.
In the hands of The Highwaymen, Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys becomes more than just a country song; it becomes a piece of American folklore. It captures the contradictions of the cowboy myth—its beauty and its sorrow, its allure and its isolation. And when these four legendary voices come together to sing it, it feels less like a warning and more like a benediction, a knowing nod from men who have lived the life and wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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Lyrics
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
And they’d rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levis
And each night begins a new day
And if you don’t understand him and he don’t die young
He’ll probably just ride away
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys like smoky old pool rooms, clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and children, girls of the night
And them that don’t know him won’t like him and them that do
Sometimes won’t know how to take him
He ain’t wrong, he’s just different but his pride won’t let him
Do things to make you think he’s right
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
