My Name is Joe Williams

My name it is Joe Williams,
To the lumber woods I steer.
Like any old bull puncher,
I drink my whiskey clear.
Like any old bull puncher,
I drink my whiskey down,
I'm a rambling wreck of poverty
And a son-of-a-bitch by God.

I landed in Grand Rapids,
Was there I made a stand,
A-marching up and down the street,
My fuck-stick in my hand.
A-marching up and down the street,
I met a pretty lass,
And you can bet your hinder
I shoved it in her ass.

Oh the water running from her [?]
Could run the water mill,
And if you had a big fat hog
To make a barrel of swill.
Oh when I reach the lumber camps
I found that I had the pox,
And I wished I'd saved my money
And screwed the old [?] fox.

Oh swamper cut that log off
You [lubber cocked] son of a whore,
[You'll be so sassed] you can suck my ass
'Til your upper lip is sore.
And now I'm going home
Bull punching for to quit,
I haven't got a nickel
And don't give a shit.

Sung by Lee Tester (b. 1878?) on July 27, 1941. Lee Tester was a tail-sawyer;
his father was head-sawyer [both types of lumberjacks]. Recorded in
Rhinelander, Wisconsin by Helene Stratman-Thomas.

Listen online here: https://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/RGB35SWD4VTYY85


A rare song. I could find only four texts (three recordings) and very few references.