The Galloping Gaucho comes to town, riding like a demon vaquero
He bought his horse for half-a-crown and called it 'Scar faced Jock'
Battered geetar on his back, poncho looking just like a light show
All his welfare in a sack, he often travelled light
He rode all through the night
With a fleeting glance at a local dance
And a cloud of dust in the morning
The girls all stood and stared intentions undeclared
For a six foot drip with a plastic whip
He could not be compared
Oh the Galloping Gaucho hits the town
Made a date with Los Paraguayos
Dressed in a pin striped suit of brown
He wore his bowler hat
Drinking wine and feeling fine
When a dark haired girl appeared in a doorway
Dressed in green like a gypsy queen
She looked like dynamite!
They rode all through the night
With a farewell glance at the local dance
and a cloud of dust in the morning
The boys all stood and stared intentions undeclared
For a brave Don Juan with a shaky hand
He could not be compared
Ohhh! The stack heeled cowboys in our town
Are apt to think they're demon vaqueros
Dressed in pin stripe suits of brown
They think that we're uncool
Shiny geetars on their backs
Make up looking just like a light show
Just avoiding income tax to get a little tight
They ride all through the night
With a far off glance at the local dance
And a cloud of dust in the morning
The girls all stood and stared, intentions undeclared
To the boss eyed blade on his last crusade
They could not be compared