St John The Gambler

<br>By townes van zandt<br><br><br><br>When she had twenty years she turned to her mother<br><br>Saying mother, I know that youll grieve<br><br>But Ive given my soul to st john the gambler<br><br>Tomorrow comes time leave<br><br>For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever<br><br>And dead men lay deep round the door<br><br>The only salvation thats mine for the asking<br><br>So mother, think on me no more<br><br><br><br><br><br>Winter held high round the mountains breast<br><br>And the cold of a thousand snows<br><br>Lay heaped upon the forests leaf<br><br>But she dressed in calico<br><br>For a gambler likes his women fancy<br><br>Fancy she would be<br><br>And the fire of her longing would keep way the cold<br><br>And her dress was a sight to see<br><br><br><br><br><br>But the road was long beneath the feet<br><br>She followed her frozen breath<br><br>In search of a certain st john the gambler<br><br>Stumbling to her death<br><br>She heard his laughter right down from the mountains<br><br>And danced with her mothers tears<br><br>To a funeral drawn a calico<br><br>neath the cross of twenty years<br><br><br><br><br><br>To a funeral drawn a calico<br><br>neath the cross of twenty years