Á¦¸ñ # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

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°¡¼ö # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z




 

 

     

Rock, Salt And Nails
- Steve Young -

Rock, Salt & Nails (1969)

 

By the banks of the river
Where the willows grow old
And the wild birds warble
the strange sounding song

By the banks of the river
Where the waters run cold
Well that's where I first listened
to the lies she told

Now I lay here each night
All alone and I weep
And nothing ain't worse
than a night without sleep

The letters you wrote me
They were written in shame
But I know that your conscience
still echoes 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 a big bushy tails
I'd fill up my shotgun
with a rock salt and nails

 

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