i was eightteennmy brother was twenty-onenone saturday evening nwhen all the work was donenwe went down to the river,nhad some trot lines to runnnmy brother walternhad a fight the week beforenknocked a boy named wilsonnthrough the pool hall doornthey said you don't mess with wilsonnunless you want a warnnwe put the boat in the water,ni made the engine runnloaded the lanternnagainst the sinking sunnand my brother walter nwas loading his gunnand we went down the rivernndown past the coal docksnwe wre running our linesnheard some drunken boatersnracing up behindnit was wilson and his cousin,nthey had trouble on their mindsnnthey passed on by us,nprobably going to tend their potsnwe headed up the rivernwith the fish we'd caughtnbut before we made the landing,ni thought i heard a shotnback down the rivernnmy brother walter fell over the sideni couldn't find him no matter how i triednand looked along the banknbut i couldn't find where they'd hidennthey drug the river,nthey searched it up and downncouldn't find his bodynso they decided that he'd drownednbut i knew betternand wilson bragged around townnnso one night i floated downnright above wilson's shackni hid in the woodsntill i saw him walk out backni put a bullet in his headnand dropped him in his tracksnand we went down the rivernndown below the trestlenwhere the water runs slowni chained him to an anvilnand then i let him gonand five years laterni ain't told a soulnnand i ain't done much fishing,ni hardly wet a linenthe death of my brothernis still heavy on my mindni've been thinking wilson's cousinnbetter find a place to hidencause i'm going down the rivernyeah i'm going down the river