Rock Salt And Nails

By the banks of the river where the willows grow old And the wild birds warble the strange-soundin' song By the banks of the river where the waters run cold Was there I first listened to the lies that you told Now I lay here each night all alone and I weep And nothin' ain't worse than a night without sleep The letters you wrote me they're written in shame But I know that your conscience still echoes my name Now if the ladies were blackbirds and the ladies were thrushes I'd lay for hours in the cold rainy marshes If the ladies were squirrels with big bushy tails I'd fill up my shotgun with a rock salt and nails I'd fill up my shotgun with a rock salt and nails