Roll on sweet Mississippi, deep and wide You're a river more than water And your water's more than gold Your ripples are old stories Which your many sons have told Your sound is made of drumbeats For which many have fought and died Your water's made of teardrops Which your southern people cry So roll on sweet Mississippi, wash the faces of your sons And bathe them in that golden delta sun Yes, and fill them with your spirit For which Tixie heroes die So roll on sweet Mississippi, deep and wide You have watched the women's faces As their men went on to die For the heartland and the country Never asking why You have heard the others laughing At your gentle southern way Still you keep right on rolling Never caring what they say So roll on sweet Mississippi, wash the faces of your sons And bathe them in that golden delta sun Yes, and fill them with your spirit For which Tixie heroes die So roll on sweet Mississippi, deep and wide You have clothed and fed your people In their bodies and their minds And the warmth of your reflections Has raised them to be kind Your river more than water Lord, your water's more than gold Oh, you're a mother to the southland You're a wonder to behold So roll on sweet Mississippi, wash the faces of your sons And bathe them in that golden delta sun Yes, and fill them with your spirit For which Tixie heroes die So roll on sweet Mississippi, deep and wide You have clothed and fed your people In their bodies and their minds And the warmth of your reflections Has raised them to be kind Your river more than water Lord, your water's more than gold *