Frank Loesser
Joey, Joey, Joey
Like a perfumed woman
The wind blows in the bunk-house
Like a perfumed woman
Smellin' of where she's been
Smellin' of Oregon cherries
Or maybe Texas avocado
Or maybe Arizona sugar beet
The wind blows in
And she sings to me
'Cause I'm one of her ramblin' kin
She sings:
Joey, Joey, Joey
Joey, Joey, Joe
You've been too long in one place
And it's time to go, time to go!
Joey, Joey, Joey
Joey, travel on
You've been too long in one town
And the harvest time's come and gone
That's what the wind sings to me
When the bunk I've bunkin' in
Gets to feelin' too soft and cozy
When the grub they're been cookin' me
Gets to tastin' too good
When I've had all I want
Of the ladies in the neighborhood
She sings:
Joey, Joey, Joey
Joey, Joey, Joe
You've been too long in one place
And it's time to go, time to go!
Joey, Joey, Joey