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