(Verse)
|
Well you¡¯re not from around here
|
You¡¯re probably not our kind
|
It¡¯s hot from March to Christmas
|
And other things you¡¯ll find
|
|
(Verse)
|
Won¡¯t fit your old ideas
|
Their line is shifting sands,
|
You walk across a ghostly bridge
|
To a crumbling promise land
|
|
(Chorus)
|
If Jesus came from Mississippi
|
If tears began to rise
|
I guess I¡¯ll start at the beginning
|
The world of strange design
|
|
(Verse)
|
Well I¡¯d like to have the ocean
|
But I¡¯d settle for the rain
|
Humbly as for true love
|
There was such a price to pay
|
|
(Verse)
|
This room was filled with trouble
|
And sacraments deceived
|
And I¡¯m with you, we¡¯re in the shade
|
Of his weeping willow tree
|
|
(Chorus)
|
If Jesus came from Mississippi
|
If tears began to rise
|
I¡¯ll have to go back to the beginning
|
In this world of strange design
|
|
(Verse)
|
We talk about your drinking
|
But not about your thirst
|
You set off through the mine field
|
Like you were round in first
|
|
(Verse)
|
So open up their window
|
And hand the baby through
|
Point up towards the ghostly bridge
|
And she¡¯ll know what to do
|
|
(Chorus)
|
If Jesus came from Mississippi
|
If tears began to rise
|
They¡¯ll have to go back to the beginning
|
In this world of strange design
|
|
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|
World Of Strange Design
|
| Rosanne Cash |
