I left my home in Alamance County, 1875.
The news was gold. There weren't no stallin'.
All I could hear was them Black Hills callin',
Calling me to come alive.

I left my woman and my dog named Willie,
Left my boyhood friends.
I left my name to be eternally cussed,
All for the sake of some golden dust.
Never went home again.

No, this wasn't what I came after.
Pockets full of hunger, ears full of laughter.
Yes, I am the Black Hills Ranger,
Destined to be everybody's stranger.

Somebody please lend me a dollar.
I can hardly stand.
Spent last night at a gambler's table,
Drinkin' from a bottle with a poison label,
Waiting for a golden hand.

No, this wasn't what I came after.
Pockets full of hunger, ears full of laughter.
Yes, I am the Black Hills Ranger,
Destined to be everybody's stranger.

Words and music by Jim Choukas-Bradley.
Jim Choukas-Bradley: vocals, acoustic guitar;
Jesse Daumit: rhythm and lead guitar;
Jesse Choukas-Bradley: vocals, rhythm and
lead guitar; Amanda Olsavsky: vocals;
Jeff Reed: bass; Mike Kuhl: drums.

Recorded at Bias Studios, Springfield, VA.
Engineered and mixed by Jim Robeson.

I wrote this song many years ago as a young man earnestly playing guitar and casually reading American History and putting into songs the pictures I saw in my mind’s eye while reading that history. This one tells the story of a man who leaves his home in rural North Carolina, leaves everything behind, family, loved ones, obligations -- and heads west to the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory in the Gold Rush of 1875. Seeking adventure and his fortune, he ultimately finds a life of lonely disillusion and dissolution.