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He was little Joe, the wrangler,He'll wrangle nevermoreHis days with the remuda, they are o'erWas a year ago last AprilThat he rode into our campJust a little Texas stray and all aloneHis saddle was a Texas kak,Made many years agoWith an OK spur on one foot lightly slungHis bedroll in the cotton sackWas loosely tied behindAnd his canteen o'er his saddle horn was hungHe said if we would give him workHe'd do the best he couldThough he didn't know straight up about a cowSo the boss he cut him out a mountAnd he kindly put him on'Cause he sort o' liked this little kid somehowHe learned to wrangle horses,And know 'em all by nameAnd get them in by daybreak, if he couldTo follow the chuckwagonAnd always hitch the teamLetras de cancionesAnd help the Cocinero rustle woodWell, we'd driven down the Pecos,The weather being fineWe camped on the south side in a bendWhen a norther started blowin',And we called out every manFor it'd taken all us hands to hold 'em inWell, Little Joe, the wrangler,Was called out with the restAlthough the kid had scarcely reached the herdWhen the cattle they stampeded,Like a hailstorm 'long they fledAnd we was all a' ridin' for the leadAmid'st the streaks of lightin'We could see a horse aheadT'was little Joe, the wrangler, in the leadHe was ridin' old Blue RocketWith a slicker o'er his headA tryin' to check the cattle in their speedAt last we got them millin'And kind'a quieted downAnd the extra guard back to the wagon wentBut one o' them was missin',And we knew it at a glanceWas our little Texas stray, poor wrangling JoeNext mornin', just at daybreak,We found where Rocket fellIn a washout twenty feet belowAnd beneath his horse, smashed to a pulp,His spur had rung the knellWas a little Texas stray, poor wranglin' Joe From Letras Mania