My name it is Joe Williams, my age is twenty-one
I came out to the country a ramblin' son-of-a-gun.
Like all other old bull-punchers I love my whiskey tod;
I'm a ramblin' wreck of poverty and a son-of-a-bitch for grog.

Chorus: whoa back, Broad, you long-horned son-of-a-bitch,
Bullie, if you kick me, I'll slug you till you shit.
Swamper, cut that knot off, you cock eyed son-of-a-whore,
You can suck my dirty asshole till your upper lip is sore

I went down to town, I thought I was a man,
I run 'round the street with my elick in my hand.
On Fifth Avenue I met a pretty lass,
I introduced her to me elick, and I shoved it up her ass.

When it went up in her little gt, she went off in a fit,
And when I pulled it out, it was all covered with blood and shit.
The drip rand down her legs, that would run a water mill,
If you was a-feedin' bacon-hogs, it would have made a barrel of swill.

Chorus
When I got to camp, I found I had the pock,
I wished I had stayed at home and banged my old off-ox
I tied it up in axle grease, I washed it with a rag,
And I bathed it in cold water, till I wished I was a stag.
When I went to piss, my whole asshole was on fire,
And if you think it didn't hurt, you are a goddamned liar.

Chorus
Now my song is ended, I'll sing to you no more,
Farewell, all you chippy girls, farewell, all you whore.
Now my song is ended, I'll sing you my last;
If you don't like my little song, you can suck my dirty ass.

Field Collections and Manuscripts: [Library of Congress] LC-AFS 2344 A1.