I came to hear the preacher man
-Though his voice has long been stilled;
His tattered Bible--long since dust
His pews no longer filled...
I came to ask the preacher man
For guidance on my search;
The quest that lead to where he rests
Near a tiny Southern church...
I feel his ghostly presence there
Near his tombstone where I pray;
I came to see the preacher man
Though he sleeps beneath red clay...
I came to tell the preacher man
( as another century closes)
How proud I'll be to tell my son
'Bout the preacher man named Moses.