Rock, Salt, and Nails


On the banks of the river
Where the willow hangs down
On the wild washing waters
With that low mourning sound
 
Down in the hollow
Where the water runs cold
It 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't erase

The letter you wrote me
Was written in shame
And I know that your conscience
Still echoes my name
 
Now the nights are so alone
And my sorrow runs deep
And nothing is worth for you and me
One more night without sleep
 
I woke up alone
I take a look at my sky
Too empty to sing
Too lonely to cry
 
If you ladies were blackbirds
And you ladies were thrushes
I'd lie there for hours
In them cold chilly marshes

But if ladies were squirrels
With them 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
 
 

words: Utah Phillips

last performed: May 14, 2000, The Double Door, Chicago (Tweedy/O’Rourke)

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