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