Hurricane

Thirty miles on the Gulf Stream I hear the South wind moan. The bridges getting lower, shrimp boats coming home. The old man down in the Quarter, slowly turns his head. Takes a sip from his whiskey bottle and this is what he said. I was born in the rain on the Pontchartrain. Underneath the Louisiana Moon. I don't mind the strain of a hurricane They come around every June The High black water, a devil's daughter She's hard, she's cold, and she's mean But nobody taught her it takes a lot of water To wash away New Orleans Man came down from Chicago, he gonna set that levee right He says, "It needs to be at least three Feet higher, it won't make it through the night" The old man down in the Quarter, He said don't you listen to that boy The water be down by the morning, And he'll be back to Illinois I was born in the rain on the Pontchartrain Underneath the Louisiana Moon I don't mind the strain of a hurricane They come around every June The High black water, the devil's daughter She's hard, she's cold, and she's mean But nobody taught her it takes a lot of water To wash away New Orleans Thirty miles on the Gulf Stream, I can hear the South wind moan The Bridges getting lower, shrimp boats coming home The old man down in the Quarter, slowly turns his head Takes a sip from his whiskey bottle and this is what he said I was born in the rain on the Pontchartrain Underneath the Louisiana Moon Don't mind the strain of a hurricane They come around every June The High black water, the devil's daughter She's hard, she's cold, and she's mean But nobody taught her it takes a lot of water To wash away New Orleans But nobody taught her it takes a lot of water To wash away New Orleans