As I was out walkin' one mornin' for pleasure, I spied a cow
puncher a-ridin' along.
His hat was thrown back and his spurs were a-jinglin' and as he
approached he was singin' this song:
Whoopee ti yi yo, get along, little doggie. It's your misfortune
and none of my own.
Whoopee ti yi yo, get along, little doggie. You know that
Wyoming will be your new home. (Chorus)
It's early in the spring when they round up the doggies. They
mark 'em and brand 'em and bob off their tails.
They round up the horses, load up the chuck wagon. Then send the
doggies out on the long tail.
Your mother was raised a-way down in Texas where the Jimsonweed
and the sandburrs grow.
We'll feed you up on prickly pear and cholla and then send you
roamin' to old Idaho.