I can barely hear your spirits speaking softly
Reaching through them pines I hear it callin
That whiporwhils call is something holy
Singing our name in high praises
Take me where our names are carved under that oak tree
And when I die I hope they bury me in a box in green cove springs
The St. John’s river, she runs right through me
She’s Singing our name in high praises
A version of me is somewhere still out on those dirt roads
Rasin hell on earth Patiently speaking out of turn
I don’t know if it’s the mud where these lessons were learned
When I was singing our name in high praises
I outstretched my hand and felt the spirit move through
At Public swimming pools and weekend bar-b-ques
You say you dont know me, I barely recognize you but I’m still singing our name in high praises