Lyrics

Old preacher calls from a pulpit of rot,
Biting snakes, sipping hymns whiskey hot.
Ghost congregation under willow trees,
The roots twist tighter with each sinner's pleas.

Sunken hymnals floating, verses long unread,
Deacon drift silent, eyes glassy and dead.
Rusty lantern flicker, twilight fading thin,
Send our prayers downward to rise up again.

At the water-edge baptisms end in mud,
Crooked faith preaching redemption by blood.
Widow sinks deeper, secrets seldom told,
Cypress limbs rustle sermons damp and cold.

Voices whisper louder than what nights allow,
Truth dragged heavy like a plow.
Lost souls watching, trusting shallow grace—
Every single heartbeat just swamp water’s pace.

No cathedral grander than a dark bayou,
Salvation trapped beneath the black water’s view.
Preacher speaks softly but words cut deep,
Faith tested heavy, swamp's secrets keep.

So come, weary traveler with bruised hearts and bones;
Seek mercy in shadows where darkness moans.
Sink down your burdens, beneath waters black;
Redemption claims many, swamp takes them back.