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
Well, a man's got to make it sometime, a man's got to take a stand
Or he'll get left in the Mississippi sand

A stranger came to town with two-tone shoes upon his feet
Singing songs of sadness, picking girls up off 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 in 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
Well, a man's got to make it sometime, a man's got to take a stand
Or he'll get left in the Mississippi sand