Poor old Injun Joe
Took on a pissed-off god
Stealin tribal gold
Way down in Mexico
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Joe set off with the gold
Into the desert land
His water soon ran out
His horse died in the sand
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Just when he thought all hope was lost
He saw a preacher man
Well help me preacher please, Joe said
Preacher turned into a buzzard's head
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Poor old Joe died that night
Under the desert moon
Spoil the child, spare the rod
Don't ever mess with a pissed-off god
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Uh huh huh
Should've looked out Joe, but you went bad
Should've known, gonna wind up dead
Stealin from your tribe, you know that that is a crime
Whoa well now folks where I come from
They would've hanged you for what you done