Well, you're not from around here, you're probably not our kindIt's hot from March to Christmas, and other things you'll findWon't fit your old ideas, they're a line in shifting sandsWalk across a ghostly bridge to a crumbling promised landIf Jesus came from Mississippi, if tears began to runI guess I'll start at the beginning, it's a world of strange designWell, I'd like to have the ocean, but I settled for the rainHumbly asked for true love, there was such a price to payThis room was filled with trouble, and the sacraments deceivedNow I'm a jewel in the shade of his weeping willow treeIf Jesus came from Mississippi, if tears began to runI'll have to go back to the beginning, in this world of strange designIf Jesus came from Mississippi, if tears began to runI'll have to go back to the beginning, in this world of strange designWe talk about your drinkingBut not about your thirstYou set off through the minefieldLike you were rounding firstSo open up a windowAnd hand the baby throughPoint her towards a ghostly bridgeAnd she'll know what to doIf Jesus came from MississippiAnd if tears began to cryThey'll have to start at the beginningIn this world of strange tearsDesign