Drifting on the current, of a Mississippi dream,
Stokers shovel coal below, sweating up a steam,
To keep the paddles churnin', down to New Orleans,
Sailing to tranquility, aboard the Delta Queen.
Up above the pilothouse, Captain at the helm,
Keeping watch on "Muddy", as king surveys his realm,
Lord of all the river, knows its every bend,
For beneath the burnished calm, there's danger to fortend.
On the banks a straw-haired boy, a cane pole in his hand,
Flathead catfish are his prey, fileted and frying panned,
Keepin' watch for river pirates, first mate and all his crew,
Behind their backs lurks gamblin' man, seeks marks who have no clue.
Southern Belles and Gentlemen, stroll upon the deck,
As coated stewards trail behind, to answer call and beck,
Marking twain with knotted rope, six fathoms down below,
Skeletons of steamers past, with no where left to go.
Off the bow, there's Huck and Jim, aboard their river raft,
Cotton bales piled on the deck, "King Cotton's" fore and aft,
Below the bluffs of Vicksburg, antebellum grace,
Steaming down to Natchez, trailhead of the Trace.
Beneath the beacon of Polaris, "Big Muddy" ever flows,
Soft rippling of the current, sweet song of dream's repose,
The Delta Queen forever sails, in glow of Luna's beam,
Adrift upon the memories, of a Mississippi dream.
[This message has been edited by Mike (edited 03-24-2000).]