[1] On the banks of the river where the willows hang down
And the wild birds all [6m] warble with a [4] low moanin' [1] sound
Down in the [6m] hollow where the [4] waters run [1] cold
It was there I first [4] listened to the lies that you [1] 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 it was written in shame
And I know that your conscience still echoes my name
Now the nights are so long lord sorrow runs deep
And nothin' 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 and the ladies wore thrushes
I'd lie there for hours in the chilly cold marshes
If the ladies were squirrels with a high bushy tail
I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails
[1] On the banks of the river where the willows hang down
And the wild birds all [6m] warble with a [4] low moanin' [1] sound
Down in the [6m] hollow where the [4] waters run [1] cold
It was there I first [4] listened to the lies that you [1] 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 it was written in shame
And I know that your conscience still echoes my name
Now the nights are so long lord sorrow runs deep
And nothin' 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 and the ladies wore thrushes
I'd lie there for hours in the chilly cold marshes
If the ladies were squirrels with a high bushy tail
I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails
| Songwriter(s): |
|---|
Utah Phillips |
| Band/Artist: |
|---|
J.D. Crowe and the New South |
Please log in to view your playlists.
