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Submitted by Neal
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Well she had twenty years when she turned to her mother
Sayin', "Mother I know that you'll grieve, but I've given my soul to St. John The Gambler
Tomorrow comes time to leave. Well the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever
Dead men lie deep 'round my door, the only salvation that's mine for the askin'
So mother think on me no more."
The winter howled high 'round the mountain's breast, and the cold of a thousand snows
Lay heaped upon the forest sleep. She dressed in Calico.
For a gambler likes his women fancy, fancy she would be
And the fires of her longing would keep 'way the cold, and her dress was a sight to see.
But the road was long beneath her feet, she followed her frozen breath
In search of a certain St. John The Gambler, stumbled to her death.
And she heard his laughter right down from the mountain, danced with her mother's tears
To a funeral drone of Calico, 'neath a cross of twenty years.
To a funeral drone of Calico, 'neath a cross of twenty years.