Miss Murphy's Gold

Now every town gets built one of two ways...By fools with shovels...Or women with ledgers. They married me to Wilbur Stand When I was barely grown, A man so old his kisses felt Like dust upon a grave stone. He complained and complained, said we had nothing left, Snored like a train and smelled of mold... Then he up and died one spring and blessed my hands With everything that he’d holed. Now widows back east wear black and cry, But I wore boots and cattle hide, Took every dollar that miser left And westward i swiftly fled. I heard the hills of Silver Creek Were vomiting up gold... And miners lose their riches quick When the whiskey’s poured cold. So I built Murphy’s Tavern, Hung my name above the door, Said, “Gentlemen, bring in your dust... You’ll leave here wanting more!” I sold them drink, I sold them dreams, I sold them lamplight and warmth. And every ounce they dug all day. I took from them at night. Now miners asked me every hour If I’d join them upstairs, I’d smile and say, “No thank you boys... But I do know who might care. ”So I placed an ad in every town For ladies bold and smart: “Good wages paid, room and board, And tips for broken hearts.” They came by rail, they came by mule, They came with names half true, Girls chasing coin or running from men Or to skies a cleaner blue. I hired a barkeep...he's mean and quick, A piano man who swung... By wintertime the whole damned town Was dancing on my rugs. [Chorus]Yes I built Murphy’s Tavern, Where the money flowed like sin, And every thirsty miner swore He’d strike it rich again. But gold runs out and veins go dry, While fools...[scoffs]well they're easily sold... So long as men keep dreaming big, I’ll keep collecting their gold. I took to dressing rough as hell, In chaps and cattle hide, Hat pulled low, cigar smoke swirled, Two pistols at my sides. Thought maybe then they’d leave me be... Well that idea failed. A pretty face in ugly clothes Just starts a different tale. Now some nights when the lamps burn low I watch the women laugh, Free for once from grabbing hands And every cruel path. The men all think they built this town With pickaxe, sweat, and toil... But Silver Creek was truly raised On liquor, luck, and girls. And if you ask who runs the books, Who owns the land and deeds to souls, Who smiles sweet while taking names And charging by the dinner bowl... You’ll find me counting profits up As fools turns hills to gold! The richest man in Silver Creek... Well... I ain’t one, I’m told. I built Murphys Tavern! Queen of ledger, rye, and flame! Every miner here knows my bar Half can’t recall my face. Let them dig and let them brag, Let them chase what can’t be sold... I already struck the biggest vein I learned to mine men’s gold! Another round, boys. The mountain’s open tomorrow... My till is open all night!