Capo the 3rd fret-- 
 
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As I was walking one morning for pleasure, I spied a cow-puncher aridin' along. 
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His hat was throwed back and his spurs were ajinglin', and as he approached 
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he was singin' this song:    CHROUS 
     
 
2:   D                       G            D 
It's early in spring that we round up the dogies, We mark them and brand  
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them and bob off their tales.  We round up our horses, load up the 
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chuck wagon, and then throw the dogies out onto the trail.    CHORUS 
 
3: 

It's whooping and yelling 

 and drivin' the dogies 

And oh how I wish 

 you wuld only go on! 

It's whooping and punching, 

 go on, little dogies, 

You know that Wyoming  

 will be your new home. 

CHORUS 
 
4: 

Some boys, they go up on 

 the trail just for pleasure, 

But that's where they get it 

 most awfully wrong. 

You haven't a notion 

 the trouble they give us, 

It takes all our time 

 to keep moving along. 

CHORUS 

5: 

Your mother was raised 

 way down in Texas, 

Where the jimson weed 

 and the sandburs grow. 

We'll fill you up 

 on prickly pear and cholla, 

Then throw you on  

 the trail to Idaho. 

CHORUS 
 
CHORUS--- 
         D  G  D        G           D 
Whoop-ee ti-yi-yo, git along little dogies, It's 
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your misfortune and none of my own. 
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Whoop-ee ti-yi-yo, git along little dogies, 
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You know that Wyoming will be your new home.