Little Joe the Wrangler will wrangle nevermore
His days with the roundup they are o'er
Was a year ago last April when he rode into our camp
Just a little Texas stray and nothing more
Little Joe, Little Joe
Oh, whatever become of him
I don't know
Oh, he sure did like his liquor
And it would have got his ticker
But the sheriff got him quicker
Yeeha!
Little Joe, Little Joe
Oh, wherever his body lies
I don't know
When the yellow moon was beamin'
He could wrangle like a demon
And you'd always hear him screamin'
Yeeha!
Little Joe, Little Joe
Oh, whatever he's doing now
I don't know
He had women by the dozen
And he swore they woz his cousins
Till he met up with their husbands
Yeeha!
