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Johnny Lee - Cherokee Fiddle Lyrics

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Johnny Lee - Cherokee Fiddle Lyrics




When the train pulled into the station
He'd open up his case and resin up his bow
Play upside down the orange blossom special
'Cause if you want to make a living you've got to put on a good show

And when he'd smell the smoke and the cinders
He'd slick back his hair, and open up his case
He'd play the 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
The Devil's Dream was a song they understood
Then he'd go back to Oklahoma
Wait till the trains were running and the weather was good

And when he'd smell the smoke and the cinders
He'd slick back his hair, and open up his case
Play the 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 leather and turquoise on
And the music is sold by lawyers
And the fools who fiddled in the middle of the stations are gone

Some folks say they'll never miss it
Old fiddle squealed like the Indian race
Cherokee Fiddle is gone forever
Like the music of the whistle that the old locomotives made

So when you smell the smoke and the cinders
Just slick back your hair, and open up your case
Play the Cherokee Fiddle, you can 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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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When the train pulled into the station
He'd open up his case and resin up his bow
Play upside down the orange blossom special
'Cause if you want to make a living you've got to put on a good show

And when he'd smell the smoke and the cinders
He'd slick back his hair, and open up his case
He'd play the 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
The Devil's Dream was a song they understood
Then he'd go back to Oklahoma
Wait till the trains were running and the weather was good

And when he'd smell the smoke and the cinders
He'd slick back his hair, and open up his case
Play the 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 leather and turquoise on
And the music is sold by lawyers
And the fools who fiddled in the middle of the stations are gone

Some folks say they'll never miss it
Old fiddle squealed like the Indian race
Cherokee Fiddle is gone forever
Like the music of the whistle that the old locomotives made

So when you smell the smoke and the cinders
Just slick back your hair, and open up your case
Play the Cherokee Fiddle, you can 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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: MICHAEL MURPHY
Copyright: Lyrics © CARLIN AMERICA INC
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