Thirteen Silver Dollars

There was a cold and cruel evening, sneaking up on Speedy Creek.

I found myself asleep in the snow.

For one or two odd reasons, I ain't too proud to repeat.

For now, I'll say I had no place to go.

There was a rustle and a humming, as I was hauling down the street.

I drew myself up from my icy bed.

Painted on that shiny car the letters R-C-M-N-P, I can feel a little aching in my head.

And then out jumps this old boy about twice the size of me.

He asks me for my name and where I dwell.

And I just looked him in the eye and sang "Blue Yodel Number Nine."

He didn't catch the reference, I could tell.

Then the old familiar click and the handcuffs barn and grip you should have left me in the snow where I lay

He just laughed and touched his gun and turned to me. He said son, I bet you don't own the damn thing, do you mate?

Well, I got my help

John B. Stetson

Got a bottle full of baby's bluebird wine

And I left my stash

Somewhere down in Dresden, along with thirteen silver dollars in my mind.

Well I got my health, my John B. Stetson.

Got me a bottle full of baby's bluebird wine.

And I left my stash, somewhere down in Dresden,

along with thirteen silver dollars in my mind.