Cherokee Fiddle - 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