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