| He’s got a broomstick horse called dynamite
|
| His very favorite friend
|
| An old steed about four hands high
|
| That runs just like the wind
|
| There’s not an outlaw in the badlands
|
| That he can’t apprehend
|
| Whoopie ti yo the littlest cowboy rides again
|
| When the other kids are lost in space
|
| In plastic rocket ships
|
| Well he’s meetin' bad guys face to face
|
| With a big iron on his hip
|
| Fear’s a word he’s heard but it don’t mean a thing to him
|
| Whoopie ti yo the littlest cowboy rides again
|
| Whoopie ti yo (whoopie ti yo)
|
| Whoopie ti ya (whoopie ti ya)
|
| Whoopie ti yo the littlest cowboy rides again
|
| There’s a cook named mom back at the ranch
|
| She just don’t understand
|
| That cowboys always wear their hat in the house
|
| And they never wash their hands
|
| They eat beef and beans not squash and greens
|
| And don’t need tuckin' in
|
| Whoopie ti yo the littlest cowboy rides again
|
| He’s got a hat and a badge and a chaw in his jaw
|
| And licorice on his chin
|
| He’s kind to ladies and cats and dogs
|
| But he’s hard on wanted men
|
| He ain’t the truck drivin' drug store rhinestone kind |
| Cause they’re just all pretend
|
| Whoopie ti (d)yo the littlest cowboy rides again
|
| Whoopie ti yo (whoopie ti yo)
|
| Whoopie ti ya (whoopie ti ya)
|
| Whoopie ti yo the littlest cowboy rides again |