Frank Turner - The Death of Dora Hand lyrics

[Frank Turner - The Death of Dora Hand lyrics]

Dora Hand was a singer in
The New York operetta
Born into Boston old money, and Paris trained
Dressed in black
She was a classic beauty but
Cursed with constitution sickly
She ventured West to breathe the
Fresh air on the Plains
She ended up down in Dodge
City, it was a cowtown, dry and ugly
She hid her past
Took Fannie Keenan for a name
Took the stage as a Vaudeville singer at
The Lady Gay and the Alhambra
The cowboys loved her and she
Quickly rose to fame

Sing a song, boys, for Dora Hand
She brought a little beauty to
This hard and barren land
Doff your caps, boys, though saved or damned


For Dora Hand

Now to the Dodge folk she was an Angel
They called her Lady Bountiful By day
And "Queen Of Fairy Belles" by night
She was bringing in good money
So she gave plenty to the needy
She sure could sing
But she sure knew her wrong from right
Now lovely Dora, she took the
Fancy of that mayor, james Dog Kelley
Like many a man before him
He was heard to say
"That there Dora is a beautiful creature
She gives men a strange nostalgia
Dreams of finer things and better days"

So sing a song, boys, for Dora Hand
She brought a little beauty to
This hard and barren land
Dream a dream, boys, of a promised land
Of Dora Hand

Now young Spike Kennedy came up from Texas
On a rolling black thunder cloud
He was a-whooping and a-whoring
And a-drowning in whiskey
Like a one man bad luck crowd
One night he saw Dora singing
At the Alhambra and
He tried to slip the lady a kiss
Dog Kelley got angry and he
Knocked him on his
Belly with one flick of his Kansas wrist
Well now Spike, he got mad, he
Was looking out for blood
He was raging like the Devil's stepson
He rode out to the cabin which the mayor used
For napping on a horse with a loaded six-gun
He fired in the dark
But he didn't hit his mark when
The bullet went through that wall
Kelley wasn't in his bed, lying
There in his stead, dora Hand was killed

So the marshals, they raised a posse
And they caught up with young Spike Kenedy
His daddy bought him free
Even though he confessed
All Dodge City wept for Dora
Every bar closed as they buried her
Four hundred cowboys rode her to her rest

Sing a song, boys, with the funeral band
We won't see her like again in
This hard and barren land
Wave her off, boys, to no man's land
Dora Hand our Dora Hand

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