There's a cowboy in the jungle
And he looks so out of place
With his shrimpskin boots and his cheap cheroots
And his skin as white as paste

Headin' south to Paraguay
Where the Gauchos sing and shout
Now he's stuck in Porto Bello
Since his money all ran out

So he hangs out with the sailors
Night and day they're raisin' hell
And his original destination's just another
Story that he loves to tell

With no plans for the future
He still seems in control
From a bronco ride to a ten foot tide
He just had to learn to roll

Roll with the punches
Play all of his hunches
Make the best of whatever comes his way
What he lacks in ambition
He makes up with intuition
Plowing straight ahead come what may.

And there's a cowboy in the jungle.