Like a perfumed woman The wind blows in the bunkhouse Like a perfumed woman Smelling of where she's been Smelling like... Oregon cherries, or maybe Texas avocados, something like Arizona sugar beans The wind blows in She sings to me Cause I'm one of her rambling kin She sings Joey, Joey, Joey Joey, Joey, Joey You've been too long In one place It's time to go Time to go, oh Joey, Joey, Joey Joey, travel on You're been too long In on town And the harvest time's Come and gone
That's what the wind Sings to me When the bunk I've been Bunking in Gets to feeling too soft and coze When the grub they've been Cooking me Gets to tasting too good When I've had all I want All the ladies in the neighborhood She sings Joey, Joey, Joey Joey, travel on You've been too long In one place And it's time to go Time to go, oh Joey, Joey Joey, Joe...