When the [D]train pulled into the [G]station
He'd open up his [A]case [Bb]and resin up his [Bm]bow   [Bb]
He'd play upside down the Orange Blossom Special
Cause if you want to make a living you've got to put on a good show

Chorus

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
And then he'd go out to Oklahoma
But he'd wait till the trains were running and the weather was good

Chorus

INSTRUMENTAL (Like a verse)

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 him
That old fiddle [Bm]squealed like the engines brakes
The 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
Slick back your hair, and open up your case   
Play the Cherokee Fiddle, you can play it for the whiskey
Good whiskey will never let you lose your place 
Good whiskey will never let you lose your place

Good whiskey will never let you lose your place