Cherokee Fiddle

When the train pulled into the station He rolled up his sleeves, and resin's up his bow Fiddle upside down, orange blossom special 'Cause if you want to make a living, you got to put on a good show When he'd smell the smoke and the cinders Slick back his hair, opened up his case Play Cherokee Fiddle, he'd play it for the whiskey 'Cause good whiskey never let him lose his place He was always there, playing for the miners Devil's dream was a song they understood Then, he'd go back to Oklahoma, and he'd wait 'til the trains Was running and the weather was good But when he'd smell the smoke and the cinders He slick back his hair, opened up his case Play Cherokee Fiddle, he'd play it for the whiskey 'Cause good whiskey never let him lose his place Now, the Indians are dressing up like cowboys And the cowboys are putting leathers and turquoise on And the music is sold by lawyers And the fools who fiddled in the middle of the station have gone Some folks say they'll never miss him Old Fiddle squealed like the engine's brakes Cherokee Fiddle, he's gone forever Just like the music of the whistle that the old locomotives made So, when you smell (when you smell) the smoke and the cinders (Smoke and the cinders) Just slick back your hair, open up your case (open up your case) Play Cherokee Fiddle, play it for the whiskey 'Cause good whiskey will never let you lose your place No, good whiskey will never let you lose your place No, good whiskey will never let you lose your place