When Georgie died, he died so hard
It brought the breeze to silence
The thistles 'round his cabin door
From grey did turn to violet
The killing of poor Georgie Cox
It grieved his mother endless
In the silence of the morning lark
She rises off from her nest
The flowers will bloom
Then the flowers will fade
And the birds will stop their singing
Arthur Meade was Cavalry
He came from Colorado
In eighteen hundred & sixty five
He rode west worn of battle
(There) Curves a trail to the golden coast
The rain squalls silver lightnin'
In the valleys low of Oregon
He fell for (the) gypsy Catherine
The flowers will bloom
Then the flowers will fade
And the birds will stop their singing
Her hair fell black on Spanish skin
Her eyes were blue with midnight
Her voice rang like a Merlin flies
On her lips crimson and slight
In Portland town they came to live
Though she was barely twenty
An aging soldier & his young bride
His loyal arm draped gently
The flowers will bloom
But the flowers will fade
And the birds will stop their singing
Georgie bowed his fiddle high
Black Mule and Shenandoah
The melody teemed from his arm
And the whiskey flowed like water
The barn floor bent and bayed a tune
An' Catherine went a courting
She had the soldiers gold in hand
But chased Georgie by (the) morning
Oh Georgie tried to set her straight
I cannot wear your fetters
A rambler I was born to play
For the gamblers & their debtors
The flowers will bloom
Then the flowers will fade
And the birds will stop their singing
When Arthur heard poor Cathy's lies
His heart torn broken leather
He pulled his Whitney from its drawer
"I'll not show them my white feather"
Oh 15 miles he rode uphill
With his pistol drawn and loaded
He shot young George twice through the gut
His innards stained the straw bed
The flowers will bloom
Then the flowers will fade
And the birds will stop their singing
When Georgie died, he died so hard
It brought the breeze to silence
The thistles 'round his cabin door
From green did turn to violence
The killing of poor Georgie Cox
It grieved poor Catherine endless
In the silence of the whistling lark
He rises from the northwest
The flowers will bloom
Then the flowers will fade
And the birds will stop their singing