Song Lyrics

By the banks of the river
Where the willows hang down
And the wild birds all warble
With their high, lonesome sound
Down in some hollow
Where the waters run cold
It was there I first listened
To the lies that you told.
If the young men were blackbirds
The young men were thrushes
I would lay by the hours
In the cold rainy marshes
If the young men were squirrels
With high bushy tails
I'd fill up my shotgun
With rock salt and nails.
Now I lie in my bed
And I see your sweet face
The past I remember time cannot erase
The letters you wrote me
Were written in shame
And I know that your conscience
Echoes my name.
Lord I lie here each night
All alone and I weep
Nothing ain't worse
Than a night without sleep
I walk out alone under the sky
Too empty to sing too lonesome to cry
If the ladies were blackbirds
And the young men were thrushes
I'd lie there for hours
In the cold, rainy marshes
If the ladies were squirrels
With high bushy tails
I'd fill up my shotgun
With rock salt and nails
I'd fill up my shotgun
With rock salt and nails

Bruce Phillips

The duration of Rock, Salt and Nails is 6:38 minutes and seconds.