| The first time I saw him was over in Tucson
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| When he asked how much the bronc ridin' paid
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| Well me and the boys we all had us a laugh
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| When we saw that his hair was in braids
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| He drawed a good mount you should of seen how
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| We used that old horse 'til the gun
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| Well I’ve never seen me no Indian cowboy
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| But that feller Joe Cy was one
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| He’s a rodeo Indian cowboy you bet
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| And he’s tough as Buffalo’s hide
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| They say the worst kind of cayuse gets scared
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| When he finds out he’s drawed up Joe Cy
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| He’s wild as a war dancin' ready to reach for
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| A hand full of sweet suicide
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| He’s a rodeo Indian cowboy for sure
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| When they say come ridin' Joe Cy
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| Some feller told me he was raised up a Mustang
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| Somewhere on the Montana plains
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| Said he’d already rode him a nightmare to hell
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| Or his spur whipped the devil half lame
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| The harder they try him the better he like 'em
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| That Joe Cy is one more good man
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| He’s a rodeo Indian double tough cowboy
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| And an all around rodeo hand
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| Well he laughed when he told me
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| he’d traded his trophies
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| Gold buckles and saddles and stuff
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| For some good land and livestock
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| To start him a school for the Indian kids sure enough
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| Wells he’s teachin' 'em ridin' and ropin'
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| And Joe says they’re all a makin' top hands
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| So watch out you pale faces come National Finals
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| Well have one more Custer’s last stand |