| I was eightteen
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| My brother was twenty-one
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| One saturday evening
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| When all the work was done
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| We went down to the river
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| Had some trot lines to run
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| My brother Walter
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| Had a fight the week before
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| Knocked a boy named Wilson
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| Through the pool hall door
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| They said you don’t mess with Wilson
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| Unless you want a war
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| I put the boat in the water
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| And I made the engine run
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| I loaded the lantern
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| Against a sinking sun
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| And my brother Walter
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| Was loading his gun
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| And we went down the river
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| Down past the coal docks
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| We were runnin' our lines
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| Heard some drunken boaters
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| Racing up behind
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| It was Wilson and his cousin
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| Had trouble on their minds
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| They passed on by us
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| Probably going to tend their pot
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| We headed up the river
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| With the fish we’d caught
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| But before we made the landing
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| I thought i heard a shot
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| Back down the river
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| My brother Walter fell over the side
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| I couldn’t find him no matter how i tried
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| And I looked along the bank
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| But i couldn’t find where they’d hide
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| They drug the river
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| They searched it up and down
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| Couldn’t find his body
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| So they decided that he’d drowned
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| But I knew better
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| And Wilson bragged around town
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| So one night I floated down
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| Right above Wilson’s shack
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| I hid in the woods
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| 'Til I saw him walk out back
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| I put a bullet in his head
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| Dropped him in his tracks
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| And we went down the river
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| Down below the trestle
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| Where the water runs slow
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| I chained him to an anvil
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| Then I let him go
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| And five years later
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| I ain’t told a soul
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| And I ain’t done much fishing
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| I hardly wet a line
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| The death of my brother
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| Is still heavy on my mind
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| I’ve been thinking Wilson’s cousin
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| Better find a place to hide
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| Cause I’m going down the river
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| Yeah I’m going down the river |