St. John the Gambler Townes Van Zandt
Townes Van Zandt
capo: 4th fret
[Am]Well she [Dm]had twenty years when she [Am]turned to her mother
Sayin', "M[Dm]other I know that you'll g[Am]rieve,
but I've g[C]iven my s[Dm]oul to S[F]t. John The G[Am]ambler
Tomorrow comes [C]time to l[Am]eave.
Well the h[Dm]ills cannot hold back my s[Am]orrow forever
D[Dm]ead men lie deep 'round my d[Am]oor,
of the [C]only sal[Dm]vation that's [F]mine for the [Am]askin'
So mother think [Em]on me no [Am]more."
The w[Dm]inter howled high 'round the m[Am]ountain's breast,
and the c[Dm]old of a thousand s[Am]nows
Lay h[C]eaped up[Dm]on the f[F]orest sl[Am]eep.
She dr[C]essed in [Am]Calico.
For a g[Dm]ambler likes his [Am]women fancy,
f[Dm]ancy she would [Am]be
And the f[C]ires of her l[Dm]onging would k[F]eep 'way the [Am]cold,
and her dress was a [Em]sight to s[Am]ee.
But the r[Dm]oad was long ben[Am]eath her feet,
she f[Dm]ollowed her frozen b[Am]reath
In s[C]earch of a c[Dm]ertain St. J[F]ohn The G[Am]ambler,
st[C]umbled[Am] to her death.
And she h[Dm]eard his laughter right d[Am]own from the mountain,
and it d[Dm]anced with her mother's t[Am]ears
To a f[C]uneral d[Dm]rone of C[F]ali[Am]co,
'neath a cross of [Em]twenty y[Am]ears.
To a funeral d[Dm]rone of C[F]ali[Am]co,
'neath a cross of [Em]twenty [Am]years.
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