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.