Текст песни Desert Blues - Jimmie Rodgers

Way out on the windswept desert where nature favors no man
The buffalo found his brother at rest on the sun-baked sand
He said, my brother, what ails you? Has sickness got you this way?
But his brother never said, for his brother was dead
Been dead since way last May

Here's to Chief Big Buffalo Nickel, a mighty man in his day
Never once used a sickle to clear the bushes away
He would go 'round from tent to tent, eat everything in sight
He loved a squaw, every one he saw
He loved a new one every night

Last night on the windswept desert I heard a big Indian moan
I left my tent, I knew what it meant, and I swore I'd never more roam
It was dawn when I reached safety, my legs were certainly sore
I must of lost fifty pounds on that hot desert ground
And I'd lose that many more