To whom it may concern: I write this letter to apply
For the only role that stirs my soul. You’ll soon see I’m the guy
That you’ve been looking for: it’s not my skills, but attitudes
And hungry heart set me apart from all the other dudes.
I’m weary of this halfway life; want to change my situation.
I’ve waited years – but now, sir, here’s my cowboy application.
Ignore the fact I’m English, and in England: mere details.
It is the West I love the best, but sad to say, life’s trails
Have never led me further than my little native land.
I’ve left it late, but I’ll demonstrate I can make a real hand.
I’ve paid my dues and practised, worked on all the traits I know
Will prove to you I’ve buckaroo potential (see below).
I’m used to rising early, working hard for lousy pay;
Not riding high; just gettin’ by and livin’ day to day.
I’m out there in all weathers, ain’t afraid of snow or rain;
I’ve frozen, burned, soaked, sweated, learned to push on through the pain.
Don’t drive a fancy car, ain’t got a nickel to my name.
Ride a different range and my accent’s strange but we’re otherwise the same.
I like my beer ice-cold straight from a longneck, not a glass
(And if you think I’d rather drink it warm – well, kiss my a$$).
I brew my coffee strong enough to float a Clydesdale’s shoe,
Eat steak so rare sometimes I swear I hear that critter moo.
Ain’t got no horse or saddle but I’ve got my share of pride.
Love Will James’ books, can’t stand Garth Brooks – hell, I’m overqualified.
Just give me a corral of outlaw broncs to break, instead
Of these vast herds of untamed words that thunder through my head.
Give me a lonely wilderness of canyons, dust and sage:
Ain’t nothing there I know can scare me like this empty page.
Give me one chance to show you all the things I’ve held inside
My heart is true. I’m begging you: please, won’t you let me ride?
Set the bar nice and low for my first post of 2015. That way, things can only get better! N.