Michael Martin Murphey — South Coast

South Coast the wild coast is lonely You might win at a game and go home But the lion still rules the barranca And a man there is always alone My name is Juanano de Castro My father was a Spanish grandee And I won my wife in a card game But no woman ever comes free I picked up the ace, I had won her Don Carlos called me a cheat But she was a prize worth the taking Like a warm summer's day she was sweet Her arms had to tighten around me As we rode up the hills from the south Not a word did I hear from her that day Nor a kiss from her pretty red mouth We came to my cabin at twilight The stars twinkled out on the coast She soon loved the valley, the orchard But before long she loved me the most Then I got hurt in a landslide So quickly she rushed to my side She saddled her pony like lightning But she never finished her ride The lion screamed in the barranca The pony fell back on the slide My young wife lay dead in the moonlight My heart died that night with my bride