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Michael Martin Murphey - Cherokee Fiddle | Текст песни

When the train pulled into the station
He rolled up his sleeves, he rosined up his bow
He fiddled 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
He slicked his hair back, he opened up his case
He played Cherokee Fiddle, he 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 understood
Then he'd go back to Oklahoma
And wait 'till the trains were 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, played for the whiskey
Good whiskey never let him lose his place

Now all the Indians are all dressin' up like cowboys
All the cowboys are puttin' leather and turquoise on
And all the music gets sold by the lawyers
And the fools who fiddled in the middle of the stations are gone

Some folks say they'll never miss him
Fiddle screeched like the engine brakes
The Cherokee Fiddle's gone forever
Like the music that the whistle on an old locomotive makes

When you smell the smoke and the cinders
Slick your hair back, open up your case
Play Cherokee Fiddle, boys, play it for the whiskey
Good whiskey never lets you lose your place
Good whiskey never lets you lose your place,

Jack Daniels never lets you lose your place!

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