[Verse 1] He come strut through the cypress shade, Jes a slow-roll king in a tailor-made, Alligator boots and a hat tilt low, Smellin’ like sassafras and a little bit o’ woe. [Pre-Chorus] Folks say he dance with the moon at night, Whispers in French when the gumbo’s right... [Chorus] He’s a gator in church shoes, Sunday sharp with a sinner’s moves, Got the bayou hummin’ low and sweet, Every step like a backbeat. He don’t talk much, but baby, when he do — He jes smile… and the water parts too. [Verse 2] I was dancin’ by the levee, drink in hand, When he tipped his hat — said, “Wanna take a stand?” Pulled me close with a preacher’s grace, But his eyes held storms and a stranger’s face. He said he’d been runnin’ from a past long gone, But the bayou don’t forget — it just plays along. [Bridge] He wore a gris-gris 'round his neck on a chain, Said it keep the good close and the wicked in pain. Under moss and moon, he carved my name, Then vanished like smoke in a bayou flame. [Final Chorus] He’s a gator in church shoes, Left me dancin’ in the delta blues, Got the bayou hummin’ still and slow, Where the cypress lean and the ghost winds blow. He don’t talk much — just smiles and fades — But I still wear the mark that his moonlight made. [Outro – Whispered/Spoken] “Gris-gris keep ya safe, but the heart still know… He come, he go — like water, like woe.”
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