South Coast, the wild coast, is lonely. You may win at the game at Jolon
But the lion still rules the barranca, and a man there is always alone

My name is Juan Hano de Castro. My father was a Spanish grandee
But I won my wife in a card game, when a man lost his daughter to me
I picked up the ace. I had won her! My heart, which was down at my feet
Jumped up to my throat in a hurry- Like a warm summers' day, she was sweet

South Coast, the wild coast, is lonely. You may win at the game at Jolon
But the lion still rules the barranca, and a man there is always alone

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- or 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 I knew that she loved me the most

South Coast, the wild coast, is lonely. You may win at the game at Jolon
But the lion still rules the barranca, and a man there is always alone

Then I got hurt in a landslide with crushed hip and twice-broken bone
She saddled our pony like lightning- rode off in the night, all alone
The lion screamed in the barrancathe pony fell back on the slide
My young wife lay dead in the moonlight. My heart died that night with my
Bride