Land of the Navajo

Oh, the wind blows cold
 On the trail of the buffalo
 Oh, the wind blows cold
 In the land of the Navajo
 In the land of the Navajo
 A hundred miles from nowhere out on the desert sand
 One-eyed Jack, the trader, held some torquoise in his hand
 By his side sat Running Elk, his long-time Indian friend
 He vowed that he would stay by Jack until the bitter end
 Jack had gambled everything he owned to lead this wandering life
 He might have had a happy home and a tender loving wife
 But his hunger was for trading trapper's furs for torquoise stone
 Anything that the Indians had, Jack wanted for his own
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 Said Jack to Running Elk, I'll gamble all my precious stones
 Before I leave my body here among these bleaching bones
 But now my time is drawing near and I'm filled with dark regret
 My spirit longs to journey as the sun begins to set
 For we raped and killed, we stole your land, we ruled with guns and knives
 Fed whiskey to your warriors while we stole away your wives
 Said Running Elk, what's done is done, you white men rule this land
 So lay the cards face up and play your last broken-hearted hand
 When you're dealing cards with death, the joker's wild, the ace is high
 Jack bid the Mississippi River, Running Elk raised him the sky
 Jack saw him with the sun and moon and upped him with the stars
 Running Elk bet the Rocky Mountains, Jupiter, and Mars
 The sun was sinking in the west when Jack drew the ace of spades
 Running Elk just rolled his eyes, he smiled and passed away
 Jack picked up his torquoise stones and cast them to the sky
 He stared into the setting sun and then made a mournful cry