Do you meet me, M’sippi, where I am?
Cause’ I’m not one to have visions,
the voices that I hear say nothin grand.
So I wait for the depths of you to flow
just like anointed oil to my mind.
I can’t find ya, M’sippi, in the bend.
But I hope that in your broadness,
you’ll widen out and find me in the end.
And then the things I do will make me whole,
the God I love will be the God that stays.
Just swallow me, M’sippi, flood today.
Before I get a boat, and it’s too late.