Michael Martin Murphey Land Of The Navajo
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...
