THE CHEROKEE QUEEN
by Carl Oglesby---
I learned it from Bruce Utah Phillips one late night at The Earl Of Old Town in Chicago. (early 70s) Carl Oglesby was president of Students For A Democratic Society-1965-'66), wrote 3 professionally produced plays, taught radical politics at MIT, was a leader of the anti-war movement during Viet Nam and, in recent times, is a lecturer, teacher and J.F.K. Sr. scholar.
(The song is on my recent CD on Waterbug Records)----Art

Said the Cherokee queen, "Are you going my way?
Is that a roadmap I see clenched in your trembling hand,
A warrior brave made his ambush in a place where the moon made him blind,
We couldn't get word down the river in time,
And all we could hear in the night was the sound of him dying."

"Oh, my tall bronze man with the stars in his eyes,
There was a ruby in the forehead of my love.
The circle of our silence was broken,
Nobody could remember the plan,
The wise men cringed in the temple all night,
Waiting for word of the newcomers final demands."

"The ceiling fan turns so slowly in the night,
And the winner deals us another pack of lies,
Gambling again with the master,
I draw to the same pair of freaks,
Gambling again with disaster,"
And bleeding with whisky she dreams of her old Cherokee.

Said the Cherokee queen, "Are you going my way?
Is that a roadmap I see clutched in your trembling hand?
A warrior brave made his ambush
At a place where the moon made him blind,
We couldn't get word down the river in time,
And all we could hear in the night was the sound of him dying.
And bleeding with whisky she dreams of her old Cherokee.

Art Thieme