C                              F
Little Joe, the wrangler, will wrangle nevermore
    C                               G
His days with the remuda, they are o'er
        C                            F
T'was a year ago last April, when he rode into our camp
  C            G             C
A little Texas stray and all alone.

    C                             F
Was late in the ev'nin', when he rode up to the herd
     C                                G
On a little old brown pony, he called Chaw
         C                            F
With his brogan shoes and overalls, a tougher lookin' kid
    C             G             C
You never in your life had ever saw.

    F                               C
His saddle was a Texas 'kack' built many years ago
                               G
An O.K. spur on one foot, idly hung
         C                          F
With his hot roll in a cotton sack, loosely tied behind
      C                G                C
And a canteen from his saddle horn, was slung.

   C                                  F
He said he had to leave his home, his pa had married twice
    C                                   G
and his new ma whipped him every day or two
      C                                 F
So he saddled up old Chaw one night and "lit a shuck" this way
   C                G                  C
He said he'd try to paddle his own can- oe.

     F                                    C
He'd said if we would give him work, he'd do the best he could
                                         G
Tho' he didn't know straight up, about a cow
       C                                F
So the Boss, he cut him out a mount and he kindly put him on
   C               G                C
He sorta liked the little kid, some- how.

     C                                  F
Well he learned to jingle horses and to know them one and all
    C                               G
And to get em in by daybreak, if he could
       C                             F
And to follow the chuck wagon and to always hitch the team
       C           G            C
And to help the Cocinero rustle wood.

     F                        C
We'd driven to Red River, the weather being fine
                                           G
We were camped out on the south side, in a bend
        C                             F
When a 'Norther' commenced blowin' we doubled up our guard
       C                 G               C
For it took all hands to hold the cattle in.

    C                             F
Now little Joe, The Wrangler, was called out with the rest
         C                                  G
And though the kid had scarecly reached the herd
         C                              F
When the cattle, they stampeded, like a hail storm long they fled
    C             G              C
And we were all a ridin' for the lead.

  F                                       C
Midst the streaks of lightnin', there was one horse up ahead
                                    G
Tryin' to stop the leaders in their speed
    C                                F
Was little Joe, the wrangler, with a slicker o'er his head
       C               G            C
He was ridin' old Blue Rocket in the lead.

    C                             F
Now we finally got em millin' and kinda quieted down
        C                               G
And the extra guard, back to the wagon, rode
    C                               F
But there was one a-missin', and we knew it at a glance
        C            G                    C
Was our little Texas stray, poor wrangler Joe.

     F                             C
Next mornin', just at daybreak, we found where Rocket fell
                                   G
Down in a washout, twenty feet be- low
    C                                       F
And beneath his horse smashed to a pulp his spur had rung the knell
        C            G                    C
For our little Texas stray, poor wrangler Joe.

C                              F
Little Joe, The Wrangler, will wrangle nevermore
     C                             G
His days with the remuda, they are o'er
        C                            F
T'was a year ago last April, when he rode into our camp
       C            G                 C
Just a little Texas stray and nothin' more.