Texty: Soundtrack Artists. The Wild, Wild West.

Verse:

Kindly check yore shootin' irons yonder at the door,
Please remove yore spurs before you come out on the floor,
We'll have no gunplay here at this charade,
No, siree, there's gotta be down right respectability,
Where ev'rybody drinks pink lemonade.

Chorus 1:

I was hopin' to be ropin' somepin' wild in the wild, wild west,
I been settin' till I'm gettin' kinda riled at the wild, wild west,
I read about them desperado guys,
As desperate as men can be,
I reckon it was just a pack o' lies,
The only one who's desperate is me,
I don't care if he's a sheriff, or a real cattle rustlin' heel,
The property I've got ain't hard to steal, your deal!
Oh, they say they have hair on their chest,

The only thing I've seen is just a fancy vest,
Holy smackers, milk and crackers, but it's wild in the wild, wild west.

Chorus 2:

I was aimin' to be claimin' me a pard in the wild, wild west,
I was lookin' to be tooken off my guard in the wild, wild west,
They told me that the outlaws captured you
And never set a lady free,
I heard they held 'em all for ransom too,
But evidently ransom don't want me,
All that prattle 'bout the cattle bein' left on the range to graze,
Well, don't they ever have no roundup days, I raise!
Yeah, I heard about them western chaps,
I've only seen the kind you wear around your laps,
Sars'parella, citronella, but it's wild in the wild, wild west.