Banks of the Old St. John's

03:41
Doug Spears
2005-10-15

Story

Winner of the Will McLean Award 1997

Lyrics

Vista Faire had raven hair, Black as a moonless night. They say she was part Seminole A daughter of the tribe. Made her home in a pine wood shack, No man to call her own. And she lived off the bounty of the land she loved, Long the banks of the old St. John’s Chorus: Now she goes down to the water side, Every morning just past dawn, To brush her hair and sing a song, Long the banks of the old St. John’s When Debary ran his paddle wheels, Up from lake Monroe, They’s often stop and pass the time, With that beautiful Indian girl. And she fed them well on fry bread, And fresh shad fish roe, And they would tell her all the news they heard, As they traveled up and down the flow. Chorus: Watchin’ for those old paddle wheels to come sailin’ down the Old St. John’s Bridge: Then one day on the paddle wheel, There came a gamblin’ man A passing stranger from New Orleans, Set his feet upon the sand. And he tarried there with Vista Faire, Beneath the Florida sun, But the wander lust soon came to him, And he never did return. Chorus: Hopin’ for that man she loved come sailin’ down the old St. John’s When summer came Vista Faire, Was heavy with his child, She gave birth to a little black haired girl, All alone in the Florida wild. Raised that girl in a pine wood shack, The two of them called home, And they lived off the bounty of the land they loved, Long the banks of the old St. John’s. Chorus To brush their hair and sing a song ‘long the banks of the Old St. John’s ‘Long the banks of the old St. John’s