Sturgill Simpson - The Ballad of Dood & Juanita Lyrics
Prologue
Come hear a tale, that awful trails of old Kentucky hills
Hear a story from the year they started hiding stills
Back in pioneering days of 1862
About a maiden named Juanita, and a man called Dood
Story of it's time, when time was tough on a man
When all he had to get by was a pail and powder can
Ol' Dude was an eagle eye, Juanita was his love
He was a mighty mountain man, she was his one true love
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Ol Dood (Part I)
One and all had heard the stories
And our witness had been sworn
'Bout a man born in Hardburly back in June of '29
Must have got that Marlin-Mahlon muzzle day he was born
Things he could do with that rifle
Blow the balls off a bat
Reload, and shoot it one more time
Had a monster of a mule, was a mighty fine steed
Sham, and Sam, a tomahawk, and that flintlock's all he need
Finding food, and finding trouble, and always taking heat
Any man who crossed him was surely gonna bleed
And he'd stretch you up and burn you
For calling him half-breed
Left the varnish off his words
Feared no beast, no man
Didn't want to end up in his debt
'Cause he'd damn sure get paid
He was harder than the nails hammered Jesus' hands
He was the one they called Dood
Son of a mountain miner and a Shawnee maiden
Wore a size seventeen ring, had hands like a bear
And if he got 'em on you, he's taking that top hair
His grandfather taught him how to hunt, how to live off the land
Taught him how to take a scalp when you kill a man
He was a deadly warring daddy with the gun gleam in his eye
'Til he found him a good woman, calmed down the rage
He built a home from the land
With the hands the good lord gave him
And ol' Dood got his own food
Had no need for the 'scrip
That old coal company paid
Left the varnish off his words
Feared no beast, no man
And if either came upon him
They'd damn sure get slayed
He was harder than the nails hammered Jesus' hands
He was the one they called Dood
Son of a mountain miner and a Shawnee maiden
Son of a mountain miner and a Shawnee maiden
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
One in the Saddle One on the Ground
First time ol' Dood laid eyes on Juanita
He knew then and there that she was the one
She gave him a love every man knows is needed
She gave him a daughter, she gave him a son
One day while Juanita was out in the garden
A bandit rode up without making a sound
Dood was working the plow far away from his rifle
Tried to get to it, but the bandit drew down
Last thing he remembered was Juanita screaming
As the world faded black and Dood crumpled down
When he came to the bandit was nowhere to be seen
His true love Juanita, nowhere to be found
A man and his rifle, a mule, and his hound
One in the saddle, one on the ground
Saw the ball had passed through
Clean as a church fold
And the wounds washed up by Sam, his old hound
So he saddled up Shamrock and powdered his rifle
And put on his old hat, worn, weathered and brown
Told his son to stay strong
Take care of his sister
'Til daddy returned, with mama safe and sound
Then they set out together to go find Juanita
Old Dood in the saddle, and Sam on the ground
Vowing never to stop 'til Juanita was found
A man and his rifle, a mule, and his hound
One in the saddle, one on the ground
One in the saddle, one on the ground
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Shamrock
Never was a finer breed than the steed who was Shamrock
Plain to see by his confirmation
That he came from finest stock
Daddy was a black mammoth jack
Mama was a thoroughbred mare
Had four white feet on a buckskin coat
Blonde mohawk in his hair
Stood about nineteen hands
Didn't need no kick to go
With ol' Dood up top
Deep in the saddle
Hollering "Whoa boy, whoa"
"Whoa boy, whoa"
Only ever had one rider
Anyone else was getting bucked
Cross any kind of land
Through the rain, and snow, and muck
Sure footed as a billy goat
With thirty-three inch ears
Clog dance on a snake with his front two feet
And give the coyotes the rear
Kick so hard it'd send 'em up
And out the stratosphere
Make a coyotes fly so far
It wouldn't land until next year
From the hightop to the holler
No-place that Sham can't go
With ol' Dood up top
Deep in the saddle
Hollering "Whoa boy, whoa"
"Whoa boy, whoa"
Ain't scared to jump that river
Jump clear across that creek
Steed don't need no shoes
When his hooves is one foot thick
Leather and tack can't hold him back
And he'll bite right through the bit
Rope bridle made of boring line
Was the only thing that fit
Hot on the bandits trail
Fence posting through the snow
Ol' Dood up top
High in the saddle
Hollering "Go boy, go"
"Go boy, go"
"Go boy, go"
"Go boy, go"
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Played Out
Trail's gone cold
And here comes the rain
Been chewing on willow bark
To hold back the pain
Putting juice in the wound
Letting it drain
Holes in my buckskins
Still wet and bloodstained
Been pushing too hard
And going insane
Lord, don't let this journey
Be all in vain
'Cause I'm played out
Down to my last draw
This biting feeling
Starting to gnaw
It's the saddest picture
You ever saw
Laid out and riding
Rough, ragged and raw
Staying up on the ridge
Trying to keep the high ground
Shoulder is throbbing
And I'm wearing down
Shamrock's head is bobbing
And I don't hear the hound
After five days and nights
Following his sound
Sam done went silent
He's nowhere to be found
Oh, wait, I see him
Lying dead on the ground
Oh, he's played out
Thorn stuck and blood raw
Torn plum all to pieces
He's done worn off his paw
Then old Sam let out
His last dying big call
So I dug him a grave
And covered it all
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Sam
Well, a good dog on the ground's worth three in the saddle
No matter where you're from
Been many good dog was a friend to a man
But Sam was the greatest one
He was the hound of hounds
He was the wonder of all walkers
He loved howling at the moon
He loved treeing that raccoon
Most of all he was my best friend
And he's gone too soon
He was the runt of the litter
But a plenty mean pup
Put Sam on the scent and he'd never let up
Spent his nights on the porch chewing on a bear bone
Now he's underground and I'm all alone
Well, a good dog on the ground's worth three in the saddle
No matter where you're from
Been many good dog was a friend to a man
But Sam was the greatest one
He was the hound of hounds
He was the wonder of all walkers
He loved howling at the moon
He loved treeing that raccoon
Most of all he was my best friend
And he's gone too soon
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Juanita
There's an ocean of stars
Hovering over me
I lay under the moon
Your face all I see
I'm caught up in fever
And shivering too
All that's keeping me alive
Is the thought of losing you
Juanita, when I found you I was at my end
So hold on Juanita, I'll find you again
You are the ocean
I am a grain of sand
In waves of emotion
A violent and craven man
But the day that I found you
Calm washed over the storm
Sun came up
Soft blue eyes
And the moon been gone so long
Juanita, where'd your mama get that name
There's no senoritas from the mountains where you came
And if I ever saw one
She wouldn't be pretty as you
With black hair so long
And soft eyes so blue
Juanita, I'll search the world 'til you're in my hands
Juanita, I'll find you
I'll find you again
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Go in Peace
When he woke up, he saw the faces
Of the mighty Cherokee
They'd found Shamrock and him passed out together
Underneath the forest canopy
Saw his tomahawk and skins
And they knew he was Shawnee
To see the chief, they now must go
One and all, that did agree
The old man stared into his soul
Though he was blind as he could be
Said "If you're looking for your woman
It is here you shall find she"
Said old man McClure traded her for horses
On which he used, so he could flee
Dood says she wasn't his to trade
He stole her away, then he shot me
Then the old man whispered something
Her you now must go and see
When she saw him, she cried tears of joy
And he saw the swollen eyes, blue as sea
She didn't need no eyes to knows
He was hers, and she belongs to he
He said "I'm sorry for your troubles
She must go back home with thee"
Said "Get your mule, and wave us home"
Said "You both now may go in peace"
So Dood climbed back up on ol' Shamrock
He and Juanita went home happily
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Epilogue
Now that mama's safe and sound
All peaceful and secure
He set back out on Shamrock
To find and kill McClure
It didn't take him very long
To track old Seamus down
McClure wanted Juanita back
And wanted to be found
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Ol Dood (Part II)
One and all had heard the stories
And our witness had been sworn
'Bout a man born in Hardburly back in June of '29
Must have got that Marlin-Mahlon muzzle day he was born
Things he could do with that rifle
Blow the balls off a bat
Reload, and shoot it one more time
Had a monster of a mule, was a mighty fine steed
Sham, and Sam, a tomahawk, and that flintlock's all he need
Finding food, and finding trouble, and always taking heat
Any man who crossed him was surely gonna bleed
And he'd stretch you up and burn you
For calling him half-breed
Left the varnish off his words
Feared no beast, no man
Didn't want to end up in his debt
'Cause he'd damn sure get paid
He was harder than the nails hammered Jesus' hands
He was the one they called Dood
Son of a mountain miner and a Shawnee maiden
Wore a size seventeen ring, had hands like a bear
And if he got 'em on you, he's taking that top hair
His grandfather taught him how to hunt, how to live off the land
Taught him how to take a scalp when you kill a man
He was a deadly warring daddy with the gun gleam in his eye
'Til he found him a good woman, calmed down the rage
He built a home from the land
With the hands the good lord gave him
And ol' Dood got his own food
Had no need for the 'scrip
That old coal company paid
Left the varnish off his words
Feared no beast, no man
And if either came upon him
They'd damn sure get slayed
He was harder than the nails hammered Jesus' hands
He was the one they called Dood
Son of a mountain miner and a Shawnee maiden
Son of a mountain miner and a Shawnee maiden
Writer: John Sturgill Simpson
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing