[Verse] By the banks of the river where the willows grow cold Wild birds warble the strange sounding song By the banks of the river where the waters run cold Was there I first listened the lies that she told He lays there each night all alone and he weeps Nothing aint worse than a night without sleep The letters she wrote him they were written in vain But I know that her conscience still echoes my name If the ladies were blackbirds and the ladies were thrushes Id lay there for hours in the cold rainy marshes If the ladies were squirrels yeah with a big bushy tail Id fill up my shotgun with a rock salt and nails [Outro] Wed fill up our shotgun with a rock salt and nails...You might also like
lady, salt, nail, shotgun, bank