I know you rider, gonna miss me when I’m gone
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I’m gone
Gonna miss your baby, from rolling in your arms
Lay down last night, Lord, I could not take my rest
Lay down last night, Lord, I could not take my rest
My mind was wandering like the wild geese in the West
The sun will shine in my back door some day
The sun will shine in my back door some day
March winds will blow all my troubles away
I wish I was a headlight on a north-bound train1
I wish I was a headlight on a north-bound train
I’d shine my light through the cool Colorado rain
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I’m gone
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I’m gone
Gonna miss your baby, from rolling in your arms
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I’m gone
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I’m gone
Gonna miss your baby, from rolling in your arms
Words and music: traditional
Arranged by the Grateful Dead
Garcia’s portrait is included as the headlight on a train on the album cover of his solo work Reflections.
Recording: Europe ’72 (November 1972).
Performances: Played from very early days onward and usually paired with “China Cat Sunflower.”
This traditional black song has been passed around in different versions (with different verses added and subtracted) for over a century, though it has been recorded relatively few times. The term rider comes up often in early blues, usually to talk about a woman, but in this case the song is popularly sung from each gender’s perspective. One example of a verse from a woman’s point of view: “Lovin’ you, baby, just as easy as rollin’ off a log / But if I can’t be your woman / I sure ain’t gonna be your dog.” The Dead used to sing a verse (pre-1971) that included a few key words from the above—“I’d rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log / Than stay here in Frisco, be treated like a dog.”
According to Bruce Jackson, author of Wake Up Dead Man, a book about early Texas prison songs, rider was also slang for the guards on horseback who would supervise prison laborers. The term found its way into some prison blues, almost as a code word that the guards wouldn’t understand. (Jackson. Goin’ Down the Road) 94