The Castro Cowboy Bar

Performed by Debbie “Hayride” Harper & The Prairie Songbirds

(Verse 1)
Down in the Castro, ‘midst the rainbow lights,
Sits the one cowboy bar that don’t blend quite right.
Where boots meet scooters and hats meet buns,
And the only bulls here ain’t mechanical ones.
They serve up whiskey, don’t do no spritz,
And you can’t rope a latte, no matter how it fits.
They’re tough, they’re smart, they’re stubborn as sin,
Still slingin’ shots while the world spins.

(Chorus)
The rise of the Castro Cowboy Bar ain’t no accident,
With cattle in town, it’s where the weekend’s spent.
They’re tough, smart, and not entirely retro,
Holding on tight, this ain’t at all hetro.
They don’t do lattes, they don’t serve brie,
Just bourbon neat and a side of country.
The Castro Cowboy Bar’s got charm and grit,
The last place standin’ where the cowboys sit.

(Verse 2)
You can’t parallel park a horse, they tried,
But you can still two-step if you’re quick on the side.
Out back, they got a hitchin’ post just for show,
‘Cause ropin’ a cable car don’t quite flow.
Inside there’s a jukebox that don’t play synth,
Just Merle, Willie, and Johnny’s grin.
It’s the only spot in town with sawdust floors,
Where Stetsons and beanies both walk through the doors.

(Chorus)
The rise of the Castro Cowboy Bar ain’t no accident,
With cattle in town, it’s where the weekend’s spent.
They’re tough, smart, and a little bit stubborn,
Where the spurs jingle while the scooters are hummin’.
They don’t do lattes, they don’t serve brie,
Just bourbon neat and a side of country.
The Castro Cowboy Bar’s got charm and grit,
The last place standin’ where the cowboys sit.

(Bridge)
Where the tech bros thought line dance was a yoga pose,
And the closest thing to a wrangler is your weekend clothes.
They ain’t got a bull ride, no room for that,
But they got a lasso toss and a good ol’ chat.
It’s a honky-tonk vibe in a kombucha town,
Where the man buns stop, and the spurs go down.
Out front, they got a pink neon steer,
Flashin’ bright to let y’all know they’re here.

(Chorus)
The rise of the Castro Cowboy Bar ain’t no accident,
With cattle in town, it’s where the weekend’s spent.
They’re tough, smart, and a little bit queer,
Holding on tight, how this works is
unclear.
They don’t serve spritzers, no kale to chew,
Just a jukebox playin’ a country tune.
The Castro Cowboy Bar’s got charm and grit,
The last place standin’ where the cowboys sit.

(Verse 3)
There’s no rodeo here, but they’ll make do,
With a shuffle, a shuffle, and a drink or two.
You’ll find a saddle hangin’ by the bar,
A relic of days when steers went far.
And when they pour the bourbon, you’ll see a grin,
‘Cause this ain’t no tech spot, it’s where the country wins.
So bring your boots, or don’t, who cares,
They’ll still pour you a shot, they’ve seen it all there.

[end]

The Castro Cowboy Bar – Music and Lyrics by Alan Nafzger