St. James' bed

I hear way down in New Orleans
They heal suffering
And take away disease
It will all evaporate from your soul
I haven't seen it
But I've been told

Put all that sorrow in a tune
Hum it softly and call it blue
Clap your hands and raise your head
Bring your spirit down to St. James' bed

Oh, my sweet friend
We're all going down to the river's end
And wash our dirty hands clean
In the songs of our loneliest ghost's release

All those street lights that burn so bright
Will watch over us through the night
And place your heart over hand
It's our gospel, and you're my hymn

Gonna feel that fire
Gonna feel that fire inside
Let it burn us up
Burn us white

Oh, my sweet friend
Ain't you coming down to the river's end
And wash ourselves so clean
In the memories we find in those streams

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Oh, my sweet friend
Ain't you coming down to the river's end



Credits
Writer(s): Jonathon Linaberry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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