About the Song

Toby Keith, a country music icon known for his anthems of patriotism and rugged individualism, takes a more introspective turn with “Last Living Cowboy.” This poignant song, released in 2013 as part of his album Drinks After Work, pays homage to a dying breed: the cowboys of old.

The opening lines immediately set the scene, introducing us to an elderly man, “87 on the 2nd day of June,” who still walks down Main Street, a relic of a bygone era. The song paints a vivid picture of this weathered cowboy, his stories etched in every wrinkle, his presence a reminder of a simpler time.

Keith’s vocals, imbued with a touch of melancholy, perfectly capture the bittersweet nostalgia of the lyrics. He sings of a life spent under the open sky, of riding horses and working the land, a stark contrast to the modern world that surrounds him.

“Last Living Cowboy” is more than just a tribute to the cowboy lifestyle; it’s a reflection on the passage of time and the inevitability of change. It’s a reminder to cherish the traditions and values of the past, even as the world moves forward.

The song resonates with anyone who feels a connection to the land, a sense of belonging to a place and a way of life. It’s a poignant reminder that while the world may change, the spirit of the cowboy, with its resilience and independence, will always endure.

Toby Keith’s “Last Living Cowboy” is a beautiful and evocative song that captures the essence of a fading era. It’s a testament to the enduring power of nostalgia and the importance of preserving the stories and values of the past.

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Lyrics: Last Living Cowboy

He turned 87 on the 2nd day of June.
In case nobody’s countin’ Son, that’s many a moon.
You’ll find him down on Main Street. That’s where he likes to walk.
It’s worth the price of admission just to hear that old man talk.He’s the last livin’ cowboy in this town.
He rode off into the sunset, yet naw, he’s still kickin’ round.
You’ll find him halfway liquored up on Caddo County shine,
Or all the way drunk half the time.He’s got 40 head of cattle down on Turkey creek.
There’s always some old stray dog round the cabin at his feet.
His family left for California back in ’29.
When it was two bits for the whiskey, and tobacco was a dime.He’s the last livin’ cowboy in this town.
He rode off into the sunset, yet he’s still kickin’ round.
You’ll find him halfway liquored up on Caddo county shine,
Or all the way drunk half the time.Keeps a jack knife in his pocket and pistol in his boot.
I’ve heard a lot of stories, but I’ve never seen him shoot.
A ’60 model pickup’s all I’ve ever seen him drive.
He ‘aint rode a horse since the day ole Bully died.He’s the last livin’ cowboy in this town.
He rode off into the sunset, yet he’s still kickin’ round.
You’ll find him halfway liquored up on Caddo County shine,
Or all the way drunk half the time.Yeah, you’ll find him halfway liquored up on Caddo County shine,
Or all the way drunk half the time.

You Missed

Before he ever stepped up to center stage under his own name, Cal Smith spent years standing quietly in the shadows as a sideman, playing guitar behind country legend Ernest Tubb. Born Calvin Shofner in Oklahoma and raised in California, he paid his dues in clubs and on radio before joining the Texas Troubadours in the early 1960s, watching other stars soak up the applause while his own solo ambitions moved at a crawl. By 1972, Smith was well into his late thirties with little more than modest chart placings to show for his efforts. Everything flipped when fellow songwriter Bill Anderson handed him “The Lord Knows I’m Drinking,” a sharp track about a man taking heat from a churchgoer whose own hands weren’t exactly clean. The single struck a nerve, shooting straight to No. 1. The true lightning strike arrived soon after. In December 1973, Smith walked into Bradley’s Barn to lay down Don Wayne’s “Country Bumpkin.” Tracing an ordinary man’s journey through marriage, children, and the devastating loss of his wife, the song packed an entire lifetime into a few poignant verses and climbed to the top of the charts in 1974. The accolades poured in, sweeping Single Record and Song of the Year at the ACM Awards, alongside a CMA Song of the Year honor for the writing. Smith quickly proved he wasn’t a one-hit wonder by following up with another chart-topper, “It’s Time to Pay the Fiddler.” After more than a decade of holding down the rhythm section for everyone else, Cal Smith’s long-delayed moment in the sun finally arrived—forever stamping his voice onto one of the defining country anthems of the 1970s.