Muddy Water Woman

333

Muddy Water Woman

Down in Missisisippi where the catfish grow long
I found her and I promised her someday I’d write a song
About a rebel woman whose soul could stir a man
To break the chains that bind her, and dare to take his hand

She’s beautiful, she’s animal, she’s earth and she is fire
She’d all but given up on love, it beat her and it lied
Her feet were in the river, my heart was in her hands
‘Til she left me all alone…by these Mississippi sands

(Chorus)
That Muddy Water Woman
Dancing barefoot on the shore
Eyes deep as a river runs
Heart wild as a storm
She loved me like the current
Sometimes easy, sometimes strong
That Muddy Water Woman
Is where a man gone wrong

They said I shouldn’t love her cuz she loved another first
But that woman, she was water, and I had a mighty thirst
That night when I first saw her wading out into the deep
I knew she was a promise that I was meant to keep

Then they found her man a-floating…on down the Mississipp
I swore I didn’t do it, but someone said I did
At first, she stood by me, like a swamp oak by the shore
But that muddy truth was rising…it was lappin’ at her door

(Chorus)
That Muddy Water Woman
Dancing barefoot on the shore
Eyes deep as a river runs
Heart wild as a storm
She loved me like the current
Sometimes easy, sometimes strong
That Muddy Water Woman
Is where a man gone wrong

(Bridge)
God knows I didn’t do it
We both know why she ran
He’s telling me to give her up
And I’m a god-fearing man, oh but

(Chorus)
That Muddy Water Woman
Dancing barefoot on the shore
Eyes deep as a river runs
Heart wild as a storm
She loved me like the current
Sometimes easy, sometimes strong
That Muddy Water Woman
Was where a man gone wrong

(Tag)
Lord, she loved me like the current
Sometimes easy, sometimes strong
But that Muddy Water Woman
Was where a man gone wrong

That’s where a man gone wrong

Mike is pleasantly retired and lives quietly with his much, much better half, Erica, and three cats (Gus the dog passed away a few months back, but still deserves mentioning) on a tiny suburban spread outside Tampa, Florida. He has a handful of publishing credits to his name, nothing to write home about. He takes long suburban walks, reads a lot of poetry, writes a few here and there. Looks forward to sunrise, appreciates a good sunset, and does the grocery run every week. The basic stuff. Life is good.