F                      F/E           F/D        F/C        
The good times scratched a laugh from the lungs of a young man 
     Bb       Bbmaj7       C  
In a Deadwood saloon South Dakota afternoon 
        F                 F/E             F/D            F/C    
And the old ones by  the door with their heads to their chests 
          Bb         Bbmaj7       C   
They told lies about whiskey on a woman's breast 
F             F/E      F/D          F/C 
Some tell the story of young Mickey Free  
        Bb            Bbmaj7      C 
Lost an eye to a buck deer in the Tongue river valley  
F             F/E      F/D         F/C 
Some tell the story of California Joe  
        Bb                     Bbmaj7             C 
He sent word that    the Black Hills they  was a mountain of gold 
        Dm           Dm/C          Bb 
And the gold she lay cold in their pockets 
        Dm           Dm/C        Bb 
And the sun she sets down on the trees 
     Dm              Dm/C           Bb 
And they'll thank the Lord for this land that they live in 
        F                 Bb         Gm    C   F 
Where a white man well he does as he pleases 
F                     F/E      F/D        F/C 
Some flat shoed  fool from the east come a running  
     Bb                Bbmaj7          C 
With some news that he read in some St Joseph paper  
           F       F/E              F/D         F/C 
And its drinks all around cause the news he's a telling  
       Bb            Bbmaj7          C 
Is the one they call crazy has been caught and been dealt with 
F       F/E          F/D                     F/C 
 
And the Easterner he reads the news from the paper  
Bb                    Bbmaj7                  C 
And the old ones draw nearer so that they can hear better  
F            F/E                       F/D 
F/C      
Well it says here that Crazy Horse was killed while he was trying to 
escape  
            Bb            Bbmaj7        C 
Says is was sometime last September and don't give the exact date 
        Dm           Dm/C          Bb 
And the gold she lay cold in their pockets 
        Dm           Dm/C        Bb 
And the sun she sets down on the trees 
     Dm              Dm/C           Bb 
And they'll thank the Lord for this land that they live in 
        F                 Bb         Gm    C   F 
Where a white man well he does as he pleases 
F             F/E            F/D        F/C 
 
Then the talk turned back to whisky and women  
Bb                  Bbmaj7       C  
Cold nights on the  plains  lord fighting the Indians  
F             F/E                 F/D            F/C         
The Easterner says he'll have one more before he goes  
Bb              Bbmaj7                 C 
He gives up the paper to the Crow boy sweeps up the floor 
        Dm           Dm/C          Bb 
And the gold she lay cold in their pockets 
        Dm           Dm/C        Bb 
And the sun she sets down on the trees 
     Dm              Dm/C           Bb 
And they'll thank the Lord for this land that they live in 
        F                 Bb         Gm    C   F 
Where a white man well he does as he pleases 
 
From Eric Taylor "Eric Taylor" 
Watermelon Records WM 1040 
P.O. Box 402088 Austin, Texas 78704 
512-472-6192 
Copyright 1995 Songs Of PolyGram Intl/Blue Ruby Music (BMI)