Rich Hopkins and Luminarios Follow

By the banks of the river where the willows hang down
And the wild birds all warble with a 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 cannot erase
A letter you wrote me it was written in shame
And I know that your conscience still echoes my name
[ harmonica ]
Now the nights are so long load sorrow unsteep
And nothing is worse than a night wothout sleep

If the ladies were blackbirds and the ladies were fishes
I'd lie there for hours in the chilly cold matches
If the ladies were squirrels with a high bushy tail
I'd fill up my shotgun with a rock salt and nails