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Little Joe the wrangler he'll wrangle never more |
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His days with the remuda they're all done |
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It was long about last April he rode into our camp |
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Just a little Texas stray and all alone |
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It was long late in the evening when he rode into our camp |
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On a little old brown pony he called Shaw |
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In his brogan shoes and coveralls a harder lookin' kid |
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You never in you life have seen before |
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His saddle was a Sother kack built many years ago |
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An OK spur on one foot idly hung |
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With his bed roll in a cotton sack was loosely tied behind |
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And a canteen from the saddle horn he'd slung |
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Said he had to leave his home because his paw had married twice |
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His new maw beat him every day or two |
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So he saddled up old Shaw one night and lit a shuck this way |
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Thought he'd try and paddle now his own canoe |
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Said he'd try to do the best he could if we'd only give him work |
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Though he didn't know straight up about a cow |
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So the boss he cut him out a mount and kinda put him on |
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And we knew he liked our little stray somehow |
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Well he taught him how to heard the horses and learned to know 'em all |
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And to get 'em in by daylight if he could |
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And to follow the chuck wagon and to always hitch the team |
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And to help the carsonaro rustle wood |
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We had driven to Red River and the weather it was fine |
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We were camped down on the south side of the bend |
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When a Norther started blowin' we called the extra guard |
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Cause it took all hands to hold the cattle in |
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Now little Joe the wrangler was called out like the rest |
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Barely had the kid got to the heard |
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When the cattle they stampeded like a hailstorm on they flew |
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With all of us a ridin' for the lead |
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Between the streaks of lightnin' we could see a horse ahead |
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It was little Joe the wrangler in the lead |
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He was riding old Blue Rocket with a slicker o'er his head |
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And he's trying to check the leaders in their speed. |
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We finally got'em millin' and they sort of quieted down |
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The extra guard back to the camp did go |
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But one of them was missing and we all knew at a glance |
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Twas our little Texas strayboy wrangler Joe |
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We found him there at sun up where old Blue Rocket fell |
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In some washout twenty feet below |
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Beneath his horse smashed to a pulphis spur had rung the knell |
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For our little Texas stray bos wrangler Joe |
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Little Joe the wrangler he'll wrangle never more |
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His days with the remuda they're all done |
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It was long about last April he rode into our camp |
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Just a little Texas stray and all alone |
