Lyrics:
By the banks of the riverWhere the willows hang downThe wild birds they warbleWith a low moanin' soundWay down in the hollowWhere the river runs coldIt was there I first listenedTo the lies that you toldNow I lie on my backAnd I see your sweet faceThe past I rememberTime can't eraseAnd the letters you wrote meThey were written in shameAnd I know that your conscienceStill echoes my nameNow if the ladies were blackbirdsIf the ladies were thrushesWell I'd lie there for hoursIn the chilly cold marshesAnd if the women were squirrelsWith them high bushy tailsWell I'd load up my shotgunWith rock salt and nails