| 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 knives
|
| 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… |