Michael Martin Murphey

Land Of The Navajo

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Oh the wind blows cold on the trail of the buffalo
Oh the wind blows cold in the land of the Navajo
In the land of the Navajo

A hundred miles from nowhere out on the desert sand
One-eyed Jack the trader held some turquoise on his hand
And by his side sat Running Elk his longtime Indian friend
He vowed that he would stay by Jack till the bitter end

Jack had gambled everything he owned to lead this wandering life
He might have had a happy home or a tender loving wife
But his hunger was for tradin' trappers' firs for turquoise stones
Anything the Indians had Jack wanted for his own

Oh the wind blows cold...

Said Jack to Running Elk I'd gamble all my precious stones
Before I'd leave my body here among these bleached bones
For now my time is drawin' near and I'm filled with dark regret
My spirit longs to journey as the sun begins to set

We've raped and killed and stole your land we ruled with guns and kvives
Fed whiskey to your warriors while we stole away your wives
Said Running Elk what's done is done you white men rule this land
So you play your cards face up and lay your broken hearted land

Oh the wind blows cold...

When you're dealin' cards of death the joker's wild the ace is high
Jack bet the Mississippi river Running Elk raised him the sky
Jack saw him with the sun and moon and upped him with the stars
Running Elk bet the Rocky Mountains Jupiter and Mars

The sun was sinking in the west when Jack drew the ace of spades
Running Elk just rolled his eyes smiled and pssed away
Jack picked up his turquoise stones and cast them to the sky
Stared into the setting sun and made a mournful cry

Oh the wind blows cold...

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