| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Play that country tuba, play that country tuba
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Well musicians' stories have made the rounds
 | 
| About traveling bands in red-neck towns
 | 
| But for tuba players this has got to be a first
 | 
| This one starts like they all do
 | 
| I’d been traveling hard for a day or two
 | 
| And I stopped into this joint to quench my thirst
 | 
| Up walked this big mountain man
 | 
| Said, «What'cha got there? | 
| A garbage can?»
 | 
| And I said, «Excuse me, that’s my tuba, if you please.»
 | 
| He said «Great play a country song
 | 
| So me and my buddies can sing along»
 | 
| And I told him I only play with symphonies
 | 
| He slammed his fist and spit out his beer
 | 
| And his body language made it very clear
 | 
| This wasn’t going to be just another B-flat day
 | 
| That’s when he cocked his thirty-odd-six
 | 
| And boy, I let out with some country licks
 | 
| I’d never thought I’d hear my tuba play
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Play that country tuba, play that country tuba
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Well after a while I ran outta air
 | 
| And I figured I’d better get out of there
 | 
| So I grabbed my horn and headed for the door
 | 
| Just about then I felt a lasso
 | 
| Wrapped around me and my tuba too
 | 
| And they yanked me back and 'ey hollered «More man more!»
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy
 | 
| Play that country tuba, play that country tuba
 | 
| Play that country tuba, cowboy |