Tom:
Introdução: G C9
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By the banks of the river, where the willows hang down
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And wild birds they warble, with a low moaning sound
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Way down in the hollow, where the river runs cold
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It was there I first listened, to the lies that you told
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Now I lie on my back, and I see your sweet face
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The past I remember, time can&rsquo t erase
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And the letters you wrote me, they were written in shame
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And I know that your conscience, still echoes my name
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G C/G G C/G G C/G G C/G G
Now if the ladies were blackbirds, if the ladies were thrushes
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I&rsquo d lie there for hours, in the chilly cold marshes
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And if the women were squirrels, with them high bushy tails
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I&rsquo d fill up my shotgun, with rock salt and nails
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I&rsquo d fill up my shotgun