I ride an old paint, I lead an old dan
I'm off to Montana to throw the houlihand
They feed in the coolies, they water in the draw
Their tails are all matted, their backs are all raw
Ride around, little dogies, oh ride around slow
The fiery and the snuffy are rarin' to go
Old Bill Jones had two daughters and a song
One went to Denver, the other went wrong
His wife she died in a pool-room fight
Still he keeps singing from morning to night.
Ride around, little dogies, oh ride around slow
The fiery and the snuffy are rarin' to go
When I die, take my saddle from the wall
Put it on my pony and lead him from the stall
Tie my bones to his back, head him for the west
We'll ride the prairies that we love the best
Ride around, little dogies, oh ride around slow
The fiery and the snuffy are rarin' to go