Too-ra-li-oo-ra-li-oo-ra-li-ay.

Oh don't you remember Sweet Betsy from Pike,
Who crossed the big mountains with her lover Ike,
Two yoke of cattle, a large yeller dog,
tall Shanghai rooster, and a one-spotted hog.

One evening quite early they camped on the Platte,
Twas near by the road on a green shady flat.
Betsy, sore-footed, lay down to repose--
With wonder Ike gazed on that Pike County rose.

The Shanghai ran off, and the cattle all died,
That morning the last piece of bacon was fried.
Ike got discouraged, Betsy got mad,
The dog drooped his tail and looked wonderfully sad.

They soon reached the desert, where Betsy gave out,
And down in the sand she lay rolling about.
Ike in great wonder looked on in surprise,
Saying, "Betsy, get up, you'll get sand in your eyes."

Sweet Betsy got up in a great deal of pain.
She declared she'd go back to Pike County again.
Ike gave a sigh, and they fondly embraced,
And they traveled along with his arm round her waist.

Too-ra-li-oo-ra-li-oo-ra-li-ay.