When the train pulled into the stationRolled up his sleeves, rosined up his bowFiddle 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 cindersSlick back his hair, opened up his casePlay 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 minersDevil’s dream was a song they understoodThen he’d go out to OklahomaAnd he’d wait till the train was running and the weather was good
When he’d smell the smoke and the cindersHe’d slick back his hair, opened up his casePlay 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 cowboysAnd the cowboys are putting leather and turquoise onAnd the music is sold by lawyersAnd the fools who fiddled in the middle of the station have gone
Some folks say they ain’t never gonna miss himOld Fiddle squealed like the engines brakesCherokee Fiddle, he’s gone foreverJust like the music of the whistle that the old locomotives made
So when you smell the smoke and the cindersJust slick back your hair, open up your casePlay the Cherokee Fiddle, play it for the whiskey‘Cause good whiskey will never let you lose your placeNo, good whiskey will never let you lose your placeNo, good whiskey will never let you lose your place
