| His father was a man who could never understand
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| The shame on the red man’s face
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| So they lived in the hills and they never came down
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| But to trade in the white man’s place
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| Early in the spring when the snow had disappeared
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| They came down with a bag of skins
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| In the fall of the year of 1910
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| Daddy died by the rope down in Cherokee Bend
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man said
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| Bout the dirty little kid at his side
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man did
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| Nor the deal or the way that he lied
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| There was blood on the floor of the government store
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| When the men took his daddy away
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| But the boy stayed back till he’d come to his end
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| Then he run like the wind from Cherokee Bend
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| Now the mother was alone and the winter was at hand
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| And she prayed to her spirit kin
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| It was warm in the lodge in the Kentucky hills
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| On the day when the boy came in
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| Then a blizzard came down and it covered up the door
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| Till they thought that it never would end
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| And he told her the tale of the terrible affair
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| In the government store down in Cherokee Bend
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man said
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| Bout the dirty little kid at his side
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man did
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| Nor the deal or the way that he lied
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| For three long days and three long nights
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| They wept and they mourned and then
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| She returned to her work and her weavin'
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| And they tried to forget about Cherokee Bend
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| Now the boy wasn’t big but he hunted what he could
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| And they lived for a time that way
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| But the food run low and the meat went bad
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| And she said to the boy one day
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| «I'm leavin' tonight and I never will return
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| From the land of my spirit kin
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| You must take what you need and trade what you can
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| For a red man’s grave down in Cherokee Bend»
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| It wasn’t very long till she closed her eyes
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| And he wrapped her in a robe
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| He found her a place on the side of a hill
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| And he buried her in the snow
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| Early in the spring he was seen comin' down
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| With his load lookin' ragged and thin
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| Not a year had gone by till he stood once again
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| In the government store down in Cherokee Bend
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| He was ten years tall and a redskin too
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| So he hadn’t much face to save
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| And the men sat around and they laughed and they clowned
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| At the talk of a criminal’s grave
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| Then a man from the east didn’t smile when he said
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| «you're the son of that indian scum
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| If you value your hide then you better abide
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| By the white man’s rules here in Cherokee Bend»
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man said
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| Bout the dirty little kid at his side
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man did
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| Nor the deal or the way that he lied
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| And he spit on the floor of the government store
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| And it served him to no good end
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| At the close of the day they had taken him away
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| To the white man’s school down in Cherokee Bend
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| It’s been twenty one years since the boy disappeared
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| Where he run to nobody knows
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| But they say he fell in with a man named Jim
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| And he rides in the rodeos
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| And they say he returns all alone to a place
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| Hidden deep in the Kentucky glen
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| And it’s pretty well known who hauled up the stone
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| To the grave on the hill above Cherokee Bend
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man said
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| Bout the dirty little kid at his side
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| Daddy didn’t like what the white man did
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| Nor the deal or the way that he lied
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| There was blood on the floor of the government store
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| When the men took his daddy away
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| It was 1910 and they never had a friend
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| When he died by the rope down in Cherokee Bend
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| It was 1910 and they never had a friend
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| When he died by the rope down in Cherokee Bend |