Intro:  [G]  (riff)

Verse 1:

There's a[G] cowboy in the jungle                                       And he[Am] looks so out of place

With his[D] shrimpskin boots and his cheap cheroots     And his   [C]skin as [D]white as [G]paste

[G]Headin' south to Paraguay                                             Where the [Am]Gauchos sing and shout

Now he's [D]stuck in Porto Bello                                         Since his   [C]money all [D]ran out[G]

Verse 2:

So he [G]hangs out with the sailors                                    Night and [Am]day they're raisin' hell

And his ori-[D]ginal destination's just another                   [C]Story that he [D]loves to [G]tell

With [G]no plans for the future                                             He [Am]still seems in control

From a [D]bronco ride to a ten foot tide                             He just [C]had to [D]learn to [G]roll

Chorus

[C]Roll [D]with the [G]punches                                            [C]Play all [D]of his [G]hunches

[C]Make the best of what-[G]ever came his [D]way        

What [C]he lacked [D]in ambi[G]tion                                 He made [C]up with in-[D]tu- [Em]ition                             

[C]Plowing straight a-[D]head come what [G]may  [C]  [G]

Verse 3:

[G]Steel band in the distance                                              And their [Am]music floats across the bay

While A-[D]merican women in moomoos                          Talk about [C]all the things they [D]did to-[G]day

And their [G]husbands quack about fishing                       As they [Am]slug those rum drinks down

Discussing [C]who caught what and who [D]sat on his butt        But it's the [C]only [D]show in [G]town

Chorus

They're tryin' to [C]drink [D]all the [G]punches                  They [C]all may [D]lose their [G]lunches

[C]Tryin' to cram lost [G]years into five or six [D]days    

[C]Seems that [D]blind am-[G]bition                                 E-[C]rased their in-[D]tu-[Em]ition

[C]Plowin' straight a-[D]head come what [G]may  [C]  [G]

Bridge

But [F]I don't want to [C]live on that kind of is[G]land      

No I[G] don't want to [C]swim in a roped off [G]sea

Too much for [Em]me, too much for[A7] me

I've [C]got to be where the [D]wind and the water are [G]free  [C]  [G]

Verse 4:

A-[G]lone on a midnight passage                                       I can [Am]count the falling stars

While the [D]Southern Cross and the satellites                 They re-[C]mind me of [D]where we [G]are

[G]Spinning around in circles                                              [Am]Living it day to day

And still [C]twenty-four hours maybe sixty good years     It's really [C]not that [D]long a [G]stay

Chorus

We've gotta [C]roll [D]with the [G]punches                        Learn to [C]play all [D]of our [G]hunches

[C]Makin' the best of what-[G]ever comes your [D]way              

For-[C]get that [D]blind am-[G]bition                                 And learn to [C]trust your in-[D]tu-[Em]ition           

[C]Plowin' straight a-[D]head come what [C]may

Outtro

And there's a [D]cowboy [C]in the [G]jungle