On the banks of the river Where the willows hang down And the wild birds all warble With a low moaning sound Down in the hollow Where the water runs cold Its was there i first listened To the lies that you told Now i lie on my bed And i see your sweet face The past i remember Time can not erase The letter you wrote me It was written in shame And i know that your conscience Still echo's my name Now the nights are so long Lord sorrow runs deep And nothing is worse Than a night without sleep I'll walk out alone And look at the sky To empty to sing to lonesome to cry If the ladies were blackbirds And the ladies were thrushes I'd lie there for hours In the chilly cold marshes If the ladies were squirrel's With high bushy tails I'd fill up my shotgun With rock salt and nails