Little Joe the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more
His days with the remuda, they're all done
It was long about last April, he rode into our camp
Just a little Texas stray and all alone
It was long late in the evening when he rode into our camp
On a little old brown pony, he called Shaw
In his brogan shoes and coveralls a harder lookin' kid
You never in your life have seen before
His saddle was a southern kak built many years ago
An O.K. spur on one foot idly hung
With his bedroll in a cotton sack, was loosely tied behind
And a canteen from the saddle horn he'd slung
Said he had to leave his home because his paw had married twice
His new maw beat him every day or two
So he saddled up old Shaw one night and lit a shuck this way
Thought he'd try and paddle now his own canoe
Said he'd try to do the best he could if we'd only give him work
Though he didn't know straight up about a cow
So the boss, he cut him out a mount and kinda put him on
And we knew he liked our little stray somehow
Well, he taught him how to herd the horses and learned to know 'em all
And to get 'em in by daylight if he could
And to follow the chuck wagon and to always hitch the team
And to help the CarSonero rustle wood
We'd driven to Red River and the weather, it was fine
We were camped down on the south side in the bend
When a Norther started blowin' and we called the extra guard
'Cause it took all hands to hold the cattle in
Now little Joe the wrangler was called out with all the rest
And barely had the kid got to the herd
When the cattle they stampeded like a hailstorm on they flew
With all of us a-ridin' for the lead
Between the streaks of lightnin', we could see a horse ahead
It was little Joe the wrangler in the lead
He was riding old Blue Rocket with a slicker o'er his head
He was trying to check the leaders in their speed
We finally got 'em millin' and they sort of quieted down
The extra guard back to the camp did go
Oh, but one of them was missing and we all knew at a glance
It was our little Texas stray boy wrangler Joe
We found him there at sun up, where old Blue Rocket fell
In a washout some 20 feet below
Beneath his horse smashed to a pulp, his spur had rung the knell
For our little Texas stray boy wrangler Joe
Now little Joe the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more
His days with the remuda, they're all done
It was long about last April, he rode into our camp
Just a little Texas stray and all alone