Little Joe the Wrangler will wrangle nevermore   His days with the roundup they are o'er   Was a year ago last April when he rode into our camp   Just a little Texas stray and nothing more      Was late in the evening when he rode into 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   An OK spur on one foot lightly swung   With 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   His new ma whipped him every day or two   So he saddled up old Chaw one night and lit a shuck his way   He said he'd try to paddle his own canoe      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 learned to know them all   And get them in at daybreakk if he could   And to trail the old chuck wagon and always hitch the team   And help to cook each evening rustle wood      We had hardly reached the Pecos the weather it was fine   We were camped down on the south side in a draw   When a northern commenced blowing and we doubled up our guards   It took every one of us to hold them in      Little Joe the Wrangler was called out with the rest   Scarcely had the little fellow reached the herd   When the cattle they stampeded like a hailstorm on they fled   And everyone was ridin' for the lead      Amid the streaks of lightnin' there was one horse up ahead   He was tryin' to check the leaders in their speed   It was little Joe the Wrangler with a slicker o'er his head   He was ridin' Old Blue Rocket in the lead      At last we got them millin' and kinda quited down   And the extra guards back to the wagon went   But there was one a missin' we could see 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 his life had gone his spung had run its knell   Was our little Texas stray poor Wrangler Joe