G
Kind friends, listen here to my pitiful tale
D7
An object of pity, I&rsquo m looking quite stale,
C G D7 G
I gave up my trade selling Wright&rsquo s Patent Pills
C G D7 G
To go hunting gold in the dreary Black Hills
G
Don&rsquo t go away, stay at home if you can,
D7
Stay away from that city, they call it Cheyenne
C G D7 G
For big Wallipe or Comanche Bill
C G D7 G
They'll lift up your hair at the dreary Black Hill
G
I got to Cheyenne, no gold could I find,
D7
I thought of the lunch route I'd left far behind
C G D7 G
Through rain, hail, and snow, frozen plumb to the gills -
C G D7 G
They call me the orphan of the dreary Black Hills.
G
So don&rsquo t go away, stay at home if you can,
D7
Stay away from that city, they call it Cheyenne
C G D7 G
For old Sitting Bull and Chief Comanche Dan
C G D7 G
They're raising pure hell round the town of Cheyenne
G
Oh, I wish that the man who had started this cell
D7
Was a captive and Crazy Horse had him in Hell
C G D7 G
There's no use in groaning or swearing like pitch
C G D7 G
But a man who would stay here's a son of a bitch
G
Don&rsquo t go away, stay at home if you can,
D7
Stay away from that city, they call it Cheyenne
C G D7 G
For old Sitting Bull and Chief Wallipe Bill
C G D7 G
They'll lift up your scalp in the dreary Black Hills