Saint John The Gambler

Lyrics
When she had 20 years, she turned to her mother Saying, mother, I know that you'll grieve But I've given my soul to St. John the Gambler Tomorrow it comes time to leave For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever And dead men lie deep round the door The only salvation that's mine for the asking So, mother, think on me no more Winter howled high round the mountains breast And the cold of a thousand snows Lay heaped upon the forest sleep But 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 ride down from the mountains And danced with her mother's tears To a funeral drone of calico 'Neath the cross to twenty years To a funeral drone of calico 'Neath the cross to twenty years
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Credits
- Writers
- Townes Van Zandt