The Osmonds
Ragtime Cowboy Joe
He always sings swingy music to the cattle as he swings
Back and forward in the saddle on a horse
That is syncopated gaited
And it’s such a funny meter
To the roar of his repeater
How he runs
When they hear the fellows guns
Because the western folks all know
He’s a highfaluting, rooting, tooting son of a gun from Arizona
Ragtime cowboy
Talk about your cowboy
Ragtime cowboy Joe
He always sings to the cattle as he swings
Back and forward in his saddle on a horse
That is syncopated gaited
And there’s such a funny meter
To the roar of his repeater
How they run
How they run
When they hear the fellows gun
Because they know he’s a highfaluting, rooting, tooting son of a gun from Arizona
Ragtime cowboy
Oh, what a cowboy
Ragtime cowboy Joe
He’s always singing
He’s always singing to his cattle
See ’em a swingin’
See ’em swingin’ in his saddle
You won’t find no one hanging around
Not when he comes a ridin’ to town
How they run when they hear his gun
Because they know that here comes ragtime cowboy Joe
He always sings to his cattle
As he swings on a horse
That is syncopated gaited
And there’s such a funny meter
To the roar of his repeater
How they run
How they run when
They hear the fella’s gun
Because they know he’s a highfaluting son of a gun from Arizona
We don’t mean Joe from Kokomo
Or any other Joe you know
No we mean ragtime cowboy Joe
We don’t mean Joe from Kokomo
Or any other Joe you know
No we mean ragtime cowboy Joe