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.