Out in Arizona where the bad men are, And the only friend to guide you is an Evening Star, The roughest, toughest man by far Got his name from singing to the cows and sheep Every night they say he sings the herd to sleep In a basso rich and deep,
How he sings raggy music to his cattle As he swings back and forward in his saddle On his horse (a pretty good horse) And with such a funny meter To the roar of his repeater
How they run when they hear the feller's gun Because the western folks all know: He's a hifalootin' scootin', shootin' Son-of-a-gun from Arizona Ragtime cowboy (talk about your cowboy)
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.