Land of the Navajo - Michael Martin Murphey

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…