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
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 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
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 No, good whiskey will never let you lose your place