| I come from down in the valley
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| Where, mister, when you’re young
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| They bring you up to do like your daddy done
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| Well, Mary, we met in high school
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| She was just seventeen
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| We’d drive outta this valley
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| Down to where the fields were green
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| We’d go down to the river
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| And into the river we’d dive
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| Oh, down to the river we’d ride
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| Well, I got Mary pregnant
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| And, man, that was all she wrote
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| Before my nineteenth birthday
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| I got a union card and a wedding coat
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| We went down to the courthouse
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| And the judge brought it all to rest
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| No wedding day smiles
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| No walk down the aisles
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| No flowers, no wedding dress
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| We’d go down to the river
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| And into the river we’d dive
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| Oh, down to the river we’d ride
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| I got a job working construction
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| For the Johnstown company
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| Lately, there ain’t been much work
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| On account of the economy
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| All those things that seemed so important
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| Well, they just vanish in the air
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| And I act like I don’t remember
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| Mary acts like she don’t care
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| And I remember us riding in my brother’s car
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| About ten and went around the reservoir |
| At night on the banks, I’d lie awake
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| And pull her close to feel each breath she’d take
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| Those memories come back to haunt me
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| Well, they haunt me like a curse
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| Is a dream a lie that don’t come true
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| Or is it something worse?
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| And we’d go down to the river
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| And into the river we’d dive
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| Oh, down to the river we’d ride
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| Down to the river, my baby and I
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| Oh, down to the river, we’d ride |