Out in Arizona where the bad men are,
And the only friend to guide you is an Eve'ning star,
The roughest toughest man by far, Is Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Got his name from singing to the cows and sheep
Ev'ry night they say he sings the herd to sleep,
In a basso rich and deep, Crooning soft and low.
He always sings, raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings, back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse, that is syncopated, gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run, when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-faluting scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Dressed up ev'ry Sunday in his Sunday clothes,
He beats it for the village where he always goes,
And ev'ry girl in town is Joe's, 'Cause he's a ragtime bear.
When he starts a spieling on the dance hall floor,
No one but a lunatic would start a war,
Wise men know his forty four, Makes men dance for fair.
He always sings, raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings, back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse, that is syncopated, gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run, when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-faluting scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
And the only friend to guide you is an Eve'ning star,
The roughest toughest man by far, Is Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Got his name from singing to the cows and sheep
Ev'ry night they say he sings the herd to sleep,
In a basso rich and deep, Crooning soft and low.
He always sings, raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings, back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse, that is syncopated, gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run, when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-faluting scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Dressed up ev'ry Sunday in his Sunday clothes,
He beats it for the village where he always goes,
And ev'ry girl in town is Joe's, 'Cause he's a ragtime bear.
When he starts a spieling on the dance hall floor,
No one but a lunatic would start a war,
Wise men know his forty four, Makes men dance for fair.
He always sings, raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings, back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse, that is syncopated, gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run, when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-faluting scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.