G 
There's a cowboy in the jungle 
      Am 
And he looks so out of place 
        D 
With his shrimpskin boots and his cheap cheroots 
        C       D        G 
And his skin as white as paste 
 
G 
Headin' south to Paraguay 
          Am 
Where the Gauchos sing and shout 
 
Now he's stuck in Porto Bello 
          C         D       G 
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 

[Refrão]
  G  C    D        G 
     Roll with the punches 
     C        D      G 
     Play all of his hunches 
   C                                    D 
     Make the best of whatever came his way 
          C         D      G 
     What he lacked in ambition 
             C       D  Em 
     He made up with in-tuition 
   C                   D              G 
     Plowing straight ahead come what may  
Steel band in the distance 
And their music floats across the bay 
While American women in moo-moos 
Talk about all the things they did today 
 
And their husbands quack about fishing 
As they slug those rum drinks down 
Discussing who caught what and who sat on his butt 
But it's the only show in town 
 
Chorus: 
They're tryin' to drink all the punches 
They all may lose their lunches 
Tryin' to cram lost years into five or six days 
Seems that blind ambition erased their intuition 
Plowin' straight ahead come what may 
 
Bridge: 
         Am              C                      G 
     Now I don't want to live on that kind of island 
         Am             C                   G 
     No I don't want to swim in a roped off sea 
                  Em              A7 
     Too much for me, too much to see 
          C                   D                      G 
     I've got to be where the wind and the water are free 
 
Alone on a midnight passage 
I can count the falling stars 
While the Southern Cross and the satellites 
They remind me of where we are 
 
Spinning around in circles 
Living it day to day 
And still twenty four hours may be sixty good years 
It's still not that long a stay 
 
Chorus: 
We've gotta roll with the punches 
Learn to play all of our hunches 
Makin' the best of whatever comes your way 
Forget that blind ambition 
And learn to trust your intuition 
Plowin' straight ahead, come what may 
 
              D      C      G 
And there's a cowboy in the jungle