The Mississippi is more wonderful than the creek that flows through my town.

But the Mississippi is not more wonderful than the creek that flows through my town,

Because the Mississippi is not the creek that flows through my town.

The Mississippi has enormous barges

and for those people who see things

that may no longer be there,

those waters are still travelled

by paddle wheelers of the days of Twain.

The Mississippi flows from Lake Itasca

And crosses Louisiana to dump into the sea.

Geography books tell us this.

But only a few know the creek of my town,

the spring and marsh it comes from,

the waters it flows into,

and because there are so few it belongs to,

It is larger and more free.

The Mississippi leads to all the world.

Beyond the Mississippi there is the world

and all the wealth of those who own it.

No one ever wondered what is beyond

the creek of my town

The creek of my town doesn’t make anybody think of anything. Whatever is next to it is simply next to it.