North of Barataria

She cut a shapely silhouette
It looked lovely on the old brick wall
As those southern skies grew dark
And the shadows started to fall
And that big yellow moon rose up
The silver stars they shined so bright
Lit up like a Christmas tree
High above those humid city lights
Night train played from an old LP
Out from a dusty phonograph
High up on the balcony
I danced the tango with madam rue
She wore a crimson patchwork dress
She chained smoke lucky strikes
Her scarlet hair was all in a mess
She said the tarot foretold of my arrival
She smelled of scotch single malt
She’s had the blues, since the day she was born
I can tell it by the way that she walks

The trumpet players rounded the corner
the accordion players, full procession did too
When the cops came, to investigate the murder
And they asked me all about you
I didn’t tell them nothing
There aint much that I really could tell
Other than nobody at all, seen it coming
Even after it all went to hell

There is a touch of voodoo in the air
The water is high up over my boots
I’m searching for fortune anywhere
Her and old scratch must be in cahoots
I can’t shake all these feelings
Like a strait jacket stretched tight
Obligated by backward dealings
Prisoner to the rhythms of the night

Going to ride the rails to salvation
Or something short of that will be fine
Anything place that is not part of damnation
Where the wicked things are a little more kind
I would at least like to break even
Chalk it all up to naïve ignorance
Good bye to the passions I am leaving
The lust and romance in remembrance

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