Standard (EADGBE)

Well she'd 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

And tomorrow comes time to leave,

For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever

And dead men lie deep 'round the door

Of the only salvation that's mine for the askin'

So mother think on me no more."

And winter howled high 'round the mountain's breast,

And the cold of a thousand snows

Lay heaped upon the forest's sleep

She dressed in Calico.

For a gambler likes his women fancy,

Fancy she would be

And the fire 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,

Stumbling to her death.

She heard his laughter right down from the mountain,

And 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.