Mayflower

St. John the Gambler
Townes Van Zandt
© Silver Dollar Music, ASCAP

When she'd had twenty 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 comes time to leave

For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever
And dead men lie deep 'round the door
And the only salvation that's mine for the asking
So mother think on me no more

Winter howled high round the mountain's breast
And the cold of a thousand snows
Lay heaped upon the forest sleep
And her dress was calico
For a gambler likes his women fancy
Fancy she would be
And the fire of her longing would keep 'way the cold
And he 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 dance with her mother's tears
To a funeral drone of calico
'Neath a cross of twenty year
To a funeral drone of calico
'Neath a cross of twenty year