By the banks of the river Where the willows hang down And the wild birds all warble With a low moaning sound By the banks of the river Where the water runs cold It's there I first listened To the lies you told Now I lay here without you All alone and I weep And there ain't nothing worse Than weak without sleep The letters you wrote me Were written in shame Cause I know your conscience Still calls my name 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 rock salt and nails I'd fill up my shotgun With rock salt and nails