| As I was out riding one morning for pleasure
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| I spied a young cowboy a-riding along
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| His hat was throwed back and his spurs were a-jingling
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| And as he was riding he was singing this song
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies;
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| It’s your misfortune, ain’t none of my own
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies
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| You know that Wyoming will be your new home
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| When spring comes along we round up the dogies
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| We stick on their brands and we bob off their tails
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| Pick out the strays, then the herd is inspected
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| And the very next day we go out on the trail
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies;
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| It’s your misfortune, ain’t none of my own
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies
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| You know that Wyoming will be your new home
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| We ride on the prairies across the wide rivers
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| And on through the flats where there’s never a town
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| Our horses are weary, we’re tired and we’re hungry;
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| Lay still, little dogies, stop roamin' around
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies;
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| It’s your misfortune, ain’t none of my own
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies
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| You know that Wyoming will be your new home
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| Night is a-comin' and the dogies are strayin'
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| They’re farther from home than they’ve been before
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| Come on, little dogies, it’s time to be rollin'
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| When we get to Wyoming, we’ll roll no more
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies;
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| It’s your misfortune, ain’t none of my own
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| Whoopee, ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies
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| You know that Wyoming will be your new home |