He always sings raggy music to the cattle As he swings back and forward in the saddle On a horse that is syncopated, gaited And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater How they run when they hear that fellow's gun Because the Western folks all know He's a highfaluting, scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona Fit as a fiddle and ready for love He always sings raggy music to the cattle As he swings back and forward in the saddle On a horse that is syncopated, gaited And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater How they run when they hear that fellow's gun Because the Western folks all know He's a highfaluting, scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona Fit as a fiddle and ready for love