St. John The Gambler 歌词

	作词 : Townes Van Zandt
	When she 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 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

	zuo ci : Townes Van Zandt
	When she 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 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

	zuò cí : Townes Van Zandt
	When she 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 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

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