Letras
By the banks of the river, where the willows hang down
And the wild birds they warble with a low moaning sound
Way down in the hollow where the river runs cold
It was there I first listened to the lies that you told
Now I lie on my back and I see your sweet face
And the past I remember, time can't erase
And the letters you wrote me, they were written in shame
And I know that your conscience still echoes my name
Now if the ladies were blackbirds, if the ladies were thrushes
Well, I'd lie there for hours in the chilly cold marshes
And if the woman were squirrels with them high bushy tails
Well, I'd load up my shotgun with rock salt and nails
I'd load up my shotgun