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174 AMERICAN BALLADS AND SONGS
I'll gallop through the front streets with many a
frightfull yell; I'll rope the slant old heathen and yank them straight
WHOOPEE TI YI YO, GIT ALONG LITTLE DOGIES
As I walked out one morning for pleasure,
I spied a cow-puncher all riding alone;
His hat was throwed back and his spurs was a-jingling,
As he approached me a-singin' this song.
Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies, It's your misfortune, and none of my own, Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies, For you know Wyoming will be your new home.
Early in the spring we round up the dogies, Mark and brand and bob off their tails; Round up our horses, load up the chuck-wagon, Then throw the dogies upon the trail.
It's whooping and yelling and driving the dogies; Oh, how I wish you would go on; It's whooping and punching and go on little dogies, For you know Wyoming will be your new home.