Back about 1800 and some, a Louisiana couple had a red-headed son, no name suited him, Jim, Jack, or Joe, they just called him Billy-by-oh, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch where you go, you're walking on quicksand, walk slow, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch what you say, a pretty girl will get you one of these days. Billy was a boy kinda big for his size, red hair and freckles and big blue eyes, thirteen years from the day he was born, Billy fought the battle of the little bighorn, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch where you go, you're walking on quicksand, walk slow, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch what you say, a pretty girl will get you one of these days. One sad day Billy cried, ho-ho, I can whip the feathers off a G-running load, he smarted off and the chief got mad, this nearly ended our Louisiana lad, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch where you go, you're walking on quicksand, walk slow, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch what you say, a pretty girl will get you one of these days. One day in 1878, a pretty girl walked through Bill's front gate, he didn't know whether to stand there or run, he wound up married cause he didn't either want, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch where you go, you're walking on quicksand, walk slow, Billy-billy-by-oh, watch what you say, a pretty girl will get you one of these days. A pretty girl will get you.