Apache Tears Lyrics
| Song | Apache Tears |
| Artist | Johnny Cash |
| Album | Bitter Tears (Ballads of the American Indian) |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Cash | |
| Hoof prints and foot prints, deep ruts the wagons made | |
| The victor and the loser came by here | |
| No head stones, but these bones bring the mascalero death moans | |
| See the smooth black nuggets by the thousands lying here | |
| Petrified, but justified are these apache tears | |
| Dead grass, dry roots, hunger crying in the night | |
| Ghost of broken hearts and laws are here | |
| And who saw the young squaw, they judged by their whiskey law | |
| Tortured till she died of pain and fear | |
| Where the soldiers lay her back, are the black apache tears | |
| The young men, the old men, the guilty and the innocent | |
| Bled red blood and chilled alike with fears | |
| The red men, the white men, no fight ever took this land | |
| So don't raise the dust when you pass here | |
| They're sleeping and in my keeping are these apache tears |
| zuo ci : Cash | |
| Hoof prints and foot prints, deep ruts the wagons made | |
| The victor and the loser came by here | |
| No head stones, but these bones bring the mascalero death moans | |
| See the smooth black nuggets by the thousands lying here | |
| Petrified, but justified are these apache tears | |
| Dead grass, dry roots, hunger crying in the night | |
| Ghost of broken hearts and laws are here | |
| And who saw the young squaw, they judged by their whiskey law | |
| Tortured till she died of pain and fear | |
| Where the soldiers lay her back, are the black apache tears | |
| The young men, the old men, the guilty and the innocent | |
| Bled red blood and chilled alike with fears | |
| The red men, the white men, no fight ever took this land | |
| So don' t raise the dust when you pass here | |
| They' re sleeping and in my keeping are these apache tears |
| zuò cí : Cash | |
| Hoof prints and foot prints, deep ruts the wagons made | |
| The victor and the loser came by here | |
| No head stones, but these bones bring the mascalero death moans | |
| See the smooth black nuggets by the thousands lying here | |
| Petrified, but justified are these apache tears | |
| Dead grass, dry roots, hunger crying in the night | |
| Ghost of broken hearts and laws are here | |
| And who saw the young squaw, they judged by their whiskey law | |
| Tortured till she died of pain and fear | |
| Where the soldiers lay her back, are the black apache tears | |
| The young men, the old men, the guilty and the innocent | |
| Bled red blood and chilled alike with fears | |
| The red men, the white men, no fight ever took this land | |
| So don' t raise the dust when you pass here | |
| They' re sleeping and in my keeping are these apache tears |
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