Lyrics
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
Is Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
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,
Crooning soft and low.
How he sings,
Raggy music to his cattle
As he swings
Back and forward in his saddle
On his horse
(A pretty good horse),
Who is syncopated gaited,
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),
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
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.
How he sings,
Raggy music to his cattle
As he swings
Back and forward in his saddle
On his horse
(A pretty good horse),
Who is syncopated gaited,
And with such a funny meter
To the roar of his repeater.
Alternative Lyrics & Related Songs
This is a longer version with some changes to the lyrics
Out in Arizona where the bad men are,
And the only friend to guide you is an evening star,
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,
Is Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
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,
Crooning soft and low.
He always sings raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse that is syncopated gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-falutin' scootin', shootin' son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
He always sings raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse that is syncopated gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-falutin' scootin', shootin' son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Dressed up every Sunday in his Sunday clothes,
He beats it for the village where he always goes,
Dressed up every Sunday in his Sunday clothes,
He beats it for the village where he always goes,
And every 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.
He always sings raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse that is syncopated gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-falutin' scootin', shootin' son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
He always sings raggy music to the cattle,
As he swings back and forward in the saddle,
On a horse that is syncopated gaited,
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater.
How they run when they hear that fellow's gun,
Because the Western folks all know,
He's a high-falutin' scootin', shootin' son-of-a-gun from Arizona,
Ragtime Cowboy Joe.