He's an artist in iron
He's a dif'rent kind of breed
He's a hired gun for the Agent
Sent from job to job by need
'Builds real castles in the air
'Walks that iron without a care
When he's on the ground - beware
Sky Cowboy

With a spud wrench in his left fist
And a good grip in his right
If you're messin' with a "brother"
Then you're lookin' for a fight
Nothin' standin' in his way
Don't have nothin' much to say
Top Out a job - he's on his way
Sky Cowboy