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She lays her head
In the Blue Ridge mountains
Covered up in the yellow pine
Running trails where there ain't no traveling
Up to the brush creek line
20 miles down a dead-end holler
To meet a man
For the whole year's haul
Through the mud and that sulfur water
Down where the panthers bawl
He weighs it out
On that backhoe trailer
Pays with no complaint
Hard as hell
Like a coffin nail
That little mountain saint


And had every job
In that old coal county -
The dairy bars
And the dollar stores
Working hard
Trying to raise that family
She never could afford
Just a girl
From the mouth of hazard
Who bet it all on a river fool
Used to sit cleaning junk he gathered
When every flood come through
And when they pulled him out
Of that muddy water
She didn't cry or faint
Went on her own
Where the cold wind moans
That little mountain saint

And always swears
If you live right, you won't be seen
Ain't no crown
For this country hustling queen

She ends her day
With her favorite bourbon
Warming up while it's turning cold
Gets the last of the white oak burning
See what the winter holds
And covers up
In that blacked out cabin
Dreams of gold
And paints
She's riding high
'neath the southern sky
That little mountain saint

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