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Cherokee Fiddle

de Michael Martin Murphey

When the train pulled in to the station
He rolled up his sleeves, rosined up his bow
He fiddle upside down, Orange Blossom Special
If you want to make a living, you've got to put on a good show

When he smelled the smoke and the cinders
Slicked his hair back, opened up his case
Played Cherokee Fiddle, played for the whiskey
Good whiskey never let him lose his place

He was always there, playing for the miners
Devil's Dream was a tune they all understood
Then he'd go back to Oklahoma
Wait till the trains was a runnin' and the weather was good

When he smelled the smoke and the cinders
Slicked his hair back, opened up his case
Played Cherokee Fiddle, just played for the whiskey
Good whiskey never let him lose his place

Now the Indians, all dressed like cowboys
All the cowboys are puttin' leather and turquoise on
And all the music is sold by the lawyers
And the fools who fiddled in the middle of the stations are gone

Some folks say they'll never miss them
Fiddle screeched like the engine breaks
Cherokee Fiddle, gone forever
Like the music that the whistle on an old locomotive make

When you smell the smoke and the cinders
Slick your hair back, open up your case
Play a little Cherokee Fiddle, just play it for the whiskey, boys
Good whiskey never lets you lose your place
Good whiskey never lets you lose your place
Jack Daniels, never lets you lose your place

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