As I went a-walkin'
One mornin' for pleasure,
I spied a cowpuncher
Come ridin' along;
His hat was throwed back,
And his spurs was a-jinglin'
And as he approached,
He was singin' this song.

Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
It's your misfortune
And none of my own;
Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
You know that Wyoming
Will be your new home.

It's early in spring
That we round up the dogies,
And mark 'em and brand 'em
And bob off their tails;
We round up our horses
And load the chuckwagon,
And then throw them dogies
Out onto the trail.

Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
It's your misfortune
And none of my own;
Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
You know that Wyoming
Will be your new home.

It's whoopin' and yellin'
And a-drivin' them dogies,
Oh, lord, how I wish
That you would go on;
It's a-whoopin' and punchin'
And go on-a, little dogies,
'Cause you know that Wyoming
Is to be your new home.

Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
It's your misfortune
And none of my own;
Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
You know that Wyoming
Will be your new home.

Some cowboys go up the trail
Just for the pleasure,
But that's where
They always go gettin' it wrong,
For nobody knows just what
Trouble they give us,
As we start a-drivin' them
All the way home.

Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
It's your misfortune
And none of my own;
Whoopee ti yi yo,
Git along, little dogies,
You know that Wyoming
Will be your new home.