i was eightteen

my brother was twenty-one

one saturday evening 

when all the work was done

we went down to the river,



had some trot lines to run



my brother walter

had a fight the week before

knocked a boy named wilson

through the pool hall door

they said you don't mess with wilson

unless you want a war



we put the boat in the water,

i made the engine run

loaded the lantern

against the sinking sun

and my brother walter 

was loading his gun

and we went down the river



down past the coal docks

we wre running our lines

heard some drunken boaters

racing up behind

it was wilson and his cousin,

they had trouble on their minds



they passed on by us,

probably going to tend their pots

we headed up the river

with the fish we'd caught

but before we made the landing,

i thought i heard a shot

back down the river



my brother walter fell over the side


i couldn't find him no matter how i tried

and looked along the bank

but i couldn't find where they'd hide



they drug the river,

they searched it up and down

couldn't find his body

so they decided that he'd drowned

but i knew better

and wilson bragged around town



so one night i floated down

right above wilson's shack

i hid in the woods

till i saw him walk out back

i put a bullet in his head

and dropped him in his tracks

and we went down the river



down below the trestle

where the water runs slow

i chained him to an anvil

and then i let him go

and five years later

i ain't told a soul



and i ain't done much fishing,

i hardly wet a line

the death of my brother

is still heavy on my mind

i've been thinking wilson's cousin

better find a place to hide

cause i'm going down the river

yeah i'm going down the river