Lyrics:
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On the banks of the river where the willows hang down
And the wild birds all warble With a low moaning sound,
Down in some hollow where the water runs cold,
It was there I first listened to the lies that you told.
Now I lie on my bed and I see your sweet face.
The past I remember, time cannot erase.
The letter you wrote me was written in shame
And I know that your conscience still echoes my name.
The nights are so long and sorrow runs deep
And nothing is worse than a night without sleep.
I walk out alone and look at the sky
Too empty to sing, too lonesome to cry.
If the ladies were blackbirds, if the ladies were thrushes
I'd lie there for hours in the cold misty marshes.
If the ladies were squirrels with high bushy tails,
I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails.
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