Тональность

 
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As I was walking one morning for pleasure, 
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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:    

CHORUS:
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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.

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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