| Moody river more deadly
|
| Than the vainest knife
|
| Moody river your muddy water
|
| Took my baby’s life
|
| Last Saturday evening
|
| Came to the old oak tree
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| It stands beside the river
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| Where you were to meet me
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| On the ground your glove I found
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| With a note addressed to me
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| It read, «Dear love, I’ve done you wrong
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| Now I must set you free
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| No longer can I live
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| With this hurt and this sin
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| I just couldn’t tell you
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| That guy was just a friend."
|
| Moody river more deadly
|
| Than the vainest knife
|
| Moody river your muddy water
|
| Took my baby’s life
|
| I looked into the muddy waters
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| And what could I see?
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| I saw a lonely, lonely face just
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| Lookin' back at me
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| Tears in his eyes
|
| And a prayer on his lips
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| And the glove of his lost love
|
| At his finger tips
|
| Moody river more deadly
|
| Than the vainest knife
|
| Moody river your muddy water
|
| Took my baby’s life |