Tonalité : F major•
Intro 1
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C
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Verse 1
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Little Joe the Wrangler
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Little wrangle nevermore
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His days with the roundup
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They are o 'er
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Was a year ago last April
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When he rode into our camp
Just a little Texas tray
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And nothing more
Was late in the evening
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when he rode into our camp
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On a little Texas pony he called Chaw
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With his broken shoes and overalls,
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a tougher looking kid
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You'd never in your life before had saw
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His saddle was a Texas cag
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built many years ago
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An okay spur on one foot lightly swung
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With his pack roll in a cotton sack
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so loosely tied behind
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In a canteen from his
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saddle horn was slung
He said he had to leave his home,
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his poor head, maybe twice
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His new ma whipped him every day or two
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So he saddled up old John one night
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and lit a chug this way
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He said he'd try to paddle his own canoe
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He said if we would give him work
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he'd do the best he could
Though he didn't know
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straight up about a cow
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So the boss, cut him out a mount
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and kindly put him on
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He's sort of like this little kid somehow
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He learned to wrangle horses
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And learned to know them all
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And get them any day break if he could
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And to trail the old chuck wagon
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And always hitch the team
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And help the cook each evening,
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Russell would
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We had hardly reached Topekos,
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the weather, was fine
We were camped out on the south side
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in a draw
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When a northern comest blowin'
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and we doubled up our guards
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It took every one of us to hold them in
Little Joe the Wrangler
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was called out with the rest
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Scarcely had the little fellow
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reached the herd
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When the cattle they stampeded
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like a hailstorm on they fled
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And everyone was riding for the lead
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Amidst the shrieks of lightning,
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there was one horse up ahead
He was trying to check the leaders
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in their speed
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It was Little Joe the Wrangler
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with a slicker o 'er his head
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He was riding old Blue Rocket in the lead
At last we got them millin'
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and kinda quieted down
And the extra guards back
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to the wagon went
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But there was one a -missin'
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We could see it at a glance
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Was our little Texas Trape
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or Wrangler Joe
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Next morning just at daybreak
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We found where Rocket fell
Down in a washout twenty
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feet below
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Beneath his horse his life was gone
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His spur hat wrong, it's Nell,
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was our little Texas Tray,
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poor Rangler Joe.
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