I was born down in the bottoms
Of the flat black Delta land
I grew up picking cotton
In the Mississippi sand
My mama said, "Son, take that girl
And go make her your wife
Or you'll be stuck here in this mud
All of your life"
Will the water roll it all away?
This secret that I hold
Will the water roll it all away?
Will it cleanse my aching soul?
But a man's gotta make it sometime
A man's gotta take a stand
Or he'll get left
In the Mississippi sand
A stranger came to town
With two torn shoes upon his feet
Singing songs of sadness
Picking girls up of the street
He made a little bit of music
Was a leader of a band
And they call him the muddy
Mississippi band
My girl was Ruby Colter
And she was on her teens
I took her out to churches
To socials schools and things
She was a rose just right for picking
And he nipped her in the bud
And he left her here
In the Mississippi mud
Will the water roll it all away?
This secret that I hold
Will the water roll it all away
Will it cleanse my aching soul?
But a man's gotta make it sometime
A man's gotta take a stand
Or he'll get left
In the Mississippi sand
Then me and old Carl, we caught him
Right down by the store
We choked him just a little bit
And held him to the floor
We relived him of his pocketbook
His blood and other things
Now the Mississippi man's
No longer mean
Will the water roll it all away?
This secret that I hold
Will the water roll it all away?
Will it cleanse my aching soul?
But a man's gotta make it sometime
A man's gotta make a stand
And I left him
In the Mississippi sand