A lyrical analysis of Taylor Swift’s “Cowboy Like Me”
“Cowboy Like Me” begins with what is perhaps Taylor Swift’s most curious opening line, “And the tennis court was covered up with some tent-like thing.” It’s almost jarringly hazy, with a conspicuously distinct vernacular that immediately sets up the shadowy mood of its narrator.
The song tells the story of two con artists falling in love over dreamy instrumentals, with Swift delivering the main character’s fervor over calm, sensual vocals. But in comparison to the usual detail-filled storytelling the singer-songwriter is highly regarded for, the eleventh track off her ninth studio album, Evermore, stands out because of its blurry edges and affective imagery, ending in an open yet still emotionally satisfying way unique to Taylor’s 2020 sister albums (See: Folklore’s “Betty” cliffhanger).
The story begins in media res (“in the middle of things”) at an event with unclear details. A fundraiser? A wedding? The mention of a “tennis court” indicates the presence of the wealthy. The second line of the song is just as striking as the first, introducing the narrator’s love interest and to whom the song is addressed to: “And you asked me to dance / But I said, ‘Dancing is a dangerous game’”. While the lyrics are decidedly vague, the first two lines are enough to paint a picture of this snobby, upper-class party and the careful, guarded persona.
The vagueness continues into the next verse, “Oh, I thought, this is gonna be one of those things / Now I know, I’m never gonna love again”, but this time the lyrics carry a sudden emotional weight that directly asserts that this is a love song, that this is a love story.
The narrator continues to alternate between what they once thought and believed in meeting this other person versus their wiser, present self: a shift from the reserved to the romantic, from the stubborn to the accepting.
The air is still mysterious — we have no idea who this “you” and “I” are — but the chorus lets the listener in on why exactly the two connect: “You’re a cowboy like me.” We learn that a “cowboy”, in this sense, is a hustler, a cheat, a con artist.
The narrator sees this in this other person immediately and knows to be wary. Because dancing, while a common social activity, is undoubtedly intimate. The close proximity, eye contact, melodic tunes playing overhead — it’s an opportunity for emotional warfare between two people who are masters at tricking and deceiving in the bounds of accepted etiquette. While the attraction between them is implied, the narrator at this point still has their walls high up. After all, who wants to fall in love with a liar?
The song then spends a significant amount of time detailing the life and mindset of a “cowboy”, with lines like “Never wanted love just a fancy car” and “I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve”. Despite the persona’s initial remiss feelings towards love, the way they describe conning is poetic and romantic — a profession they deem as reserved for the clever, the charming, and the damned.
The turning point in the story is an affair most unexpected, but one that is later welcomed — the tennis court event at the beginning of the song, “Never thought I’d meet you here / It could be love”. While the narrator doesn’t specify when exactly they fall in love or when their walls begin to come down, there’s a clear before and after as the song unfolds, an aftermath of the diagnosis of love.
This transformation is detailed in two verses repeated twice: “I could be the way forward / Only if they pay for it” which refers to the “rich folks” they once swindled, that mirrors but contrasts, “We could be the way forward / And I know I’ll pay for it”, evidencing the narrator’s own desire to go “forward” with the object of their affection. “I know I’ll pay for it” insinuates that the narrator knows they are being foolish, but they are simply too devoted to their love to think it matters or believe it isn’t worth-it.
The devotion is present in the intimate way the narrator describes the other cowboy, “Perched in the dark… Eyes full of stars / Hustlin’ for the good life”, casting them in a light that’s quietly cinematic, admiring both their rough edges and gleaming ambition.
The bridge is the emotional climax of the song, setting up the big bad of their love story: their own pasts. “And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up” is followed up by characterizing the rich they’ve tricked and recounting the aftermath of their successful cons. By this point, you’re almost certain things don’t end well for the pair of star-crossed swindlers. There is a certain fondness to the narrator reminiscing on their crimes as if they’re achievements, but the looming quality of these memories is still present. It tells us their histories follow them, their reputations precede them.
However, this threat is revealed to have been resolved by their own mutual affection for each other. The way the narrator views love is simplistic in nature: to choose someone against the odds. To love someone is to be with them, to stay with them, to “lock it down”, as they proudly put it in the song’s plot twist.
The song ends with “I’m never gonna love again” repeated thrice, the only few words that reel in the potential heartbreak their once-in-a-lifetime relationship has on the table. “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / With your boots beneath my bed” indicates that at least for now, they are together. The narrator is assured, almost smug, by the conclusion of their encounter. Love, we learn, is the big con — and they’re both falling for it with absolutely no regrets.
But this is certainly no ending — this is simply the narrator, suspended in time by the magic of falling in love. Who knows what their future holds? Their ending is possibly open, possibly tragic. “Forever is the sweetest con” is up for interpretation — sweet in that they stay together? Or a con in that they don’t? One can’t deny the wave of melancholy that hangs over the hauntingly romantic verse.
Swift’s narratives are famously rich and deeply woven, with character arcs making one feel as though they know these fictional narrators to their very core. While by the end of the song, the narrator of “Cowboy Like Me” remains a stranger because of the murky characterization they give themselves, their heart has been poured out with brutal honesty — the opposite of what a con artist does. Here, there’s no ulterior motive, no tricks, just an account of how they fell in love.
But one doesn’t need to be a con artist to resonate with the narrative of “Cowboy Like Me” — it’s a classic tale told time and time again of two outsiders finding each other and seeing right through the deceitful masks they show everybody else. Whether they live happily ever after or not once the song is over, this Evermore standout crawls and seeps into the listener’s conscious, pronouncing boldly that the art of the con is something powerful, heart-wrenching, and, at its very core, romantic.
