When she had twenty years she turned to her mother Saying mother, I know that youll grieve But Ive given my soul to st john the gambler Tomorrow comes time leave For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever And dead men lay deep round the door The only salvation thats mine for the asking So mother, think on me no more Winter held high round the mountains breast And the cold of a thousand snows Lay heaped upon the forests leaf 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 the 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 mountains And danced with her mothers tears To a funeral drawn a calico neath the cross of twenty years To a funeral drawn a calico neath the cross of twenty years