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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