Biografía:
Willie Watson (born September 23, 1979) is a singer-songwriter, guitarist, and banjo player born in Watkins Glen, New York, who was a founding member of Old Crow Medicine Show. His debut solo album Folk Singer, Vol. I, was released in May 2014[1] and he appeared at the 2014 Newport Folk Festival.[2] Raised in Upstate New York around Ithaca, he currently resides in Topanga, California.
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¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
Willie Watson
"Rock Salt and Nails"
org. Utah Philips
From: Folk Singer Vol. 1
Capo V
[Intro]
C F C
[Verse 1]
C F C
On the banks of the river where the willows hang down
Am F C
And wild birds all warble with a low moaning sound
Am F C
Way down in the hollow where the water runs cold
F C
That's where I first listened to the lies that you told
[Verse 2]
C F C
Now I lie on my bed and I see your sweet face
Am F C
The past I remember time cannot erase
Am F C
The letter you wrote me it was written in shame
F C
And I know that your conscience still echo's my name
[Verse 3]
C F C
Now the nights are so long, and sorrow runs deep
Am F C
And nothing is worse than a night without sleep
Am F C
I'll walk out alone, I look at the sky
F C
Too empty to sing, too lonesome to cry
[Verse 4]
C F C
So if you ladies were blackbirds, if you ladies were thrushes
Am F C
I'd lie there for hours in the cold chilly marshes
Am F C
If you ladies were squirrel's with high bushy tails
F C
I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails
"Rock Salt and Nails"
org. Utah Philips
From: Folk Singer Vol. 1
Capo V
[Intro]
C F C
[Verse 1]
C F C
On the banks of the river where the willows hang down
Am F C
And wild birds all warble with a low moaning sound
Am F C
Way down in the hollow where the water runs cold
F C
That's where I first listened to the lies that you told
[Verse 2]
C F C
Now I lie on my bed and I see your sweet face
Am F C
The past I remember time cannot erase
Am F C
The letter you wrote me it was written in shame
F C
And I know that your conscience still echo's my name
[Verse 3]
C F C
Now the nights are so long, and sorrow runs deep
Am F C
And nothing is worse than a night without sleep
Am F C
I'll walk out alone, I look at the sky
F C
Too empty to sing, too lonesome to cry
[Verse 4]
C F C
So if you ladies were blackbirds, if you ladies were thrushes
Am F C
I'd lie there for hours in the cold chilly marshes
Am F C
If you ladies were squirrel's with high bushy tails
F C
I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails
Willy Astor
Willy Buena
Willy Chirino
Willy Claure
Willy Clay Band