Rock Salt And Nails
John Martyn
On the banks of the river
Where the willow hangs down
On the wild washing waters
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 worse 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
If you ladies were squirrels
With them high bushy tails
I would load up my shotgun
With rock, salt and nails
If you 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
Fill up my shotgun
With rock, salt and nails
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