文本歌词

Little Joe the Wrangler - Rex Allen
Lyrics by：Hill Charles Lee
Composed by：Hill Charles Lee
Little Joe the Wrangler will wrangle nevermore
His days with the roundup they are o'er
Was a year ago last April
He rode up to our camp
Just a little Texas stray and all along
It is late in the evening
He rode up to our camp
On the little Texas pony he called Chaw
With his brogan shoes
And overalls a tougher looking kid
You never in your life before had saw
His saddle was
A Texas kack built many years ago
With an okay spur on one foot lightly swung
His packroll in
A cotton sack so loosely tied behind
And a canteen from his saddle horn was slung
He said he had to leave
His home his pa had married twice
And his new ma whipped him every day or two
So he saddled up old Chaw
One day and lit a shuck his way
And he's trying hard paddle his own new
He said if we would give him work
He'd do the best he could
Though he didn't know straight up about a cow
So the boss he cut him out a mount
And kindly put him on
He sorta liked this little kid somehow
He learned to wrangle horses
And try to know them all
And round above but day light if he could
He follow the chuck wagon
And always hitch the team
And help to cook scenario rustle wood
With regon to
The Pecos the weather be and fine
And down on the south side of a van
When a northern started blowing
We doubled up our guards
Or it take in all of us hold them in
Little Joe the Wrangler
Was called out with the rest
Held the kid at scarsly reached the herd
When the cattle they stampeded
Like a hailstorm on they fled
We were all ridin' for the lead
Reach the streaks of lightnin'
We shaw a man the lead
It was little Joe the Wrangler
And the lead
He was ridin' old blue Rocket
With a slikars or his lead
Rine the check the cattle and their sweet
At last we got him Milan
And kind quite a down
And the extra guards back to the wagon went
But there was one a missin'
And we new it at a glance
Was our little Texas stray poor Wrangler Joe
Next morning just at daybreak
We found where Rocket fell
Down in a washout twenty feet below
Beneath his horse mise to a Paul
His spung had run it's knell
Was our little Texas stray poor Wrangler Joe