New Orleans
New Orleans (for Jeni Espinet)
When the flying steel mass danced its ugly bulk over the white dashed lines
of a highway stretch that will chill your friends' tongues for years to come
When your whole life flashed like headlights or antique camera bulbs burst
When the lightning rod you carried like a secret spine broke
It was the worst criminal evidence that were normal, Jeni
That you could go from free to rooted over the mundane asphalt
No red carpet, no gig tonight, the guest list goes unchecked
All for the panicked calls that web out like a black widow in a frenzy
The femme fatale drops somewhere off screen, it all fades to shocked gray
We will not even count the dead men, they were always ready to die
In New Orleans your other home never got the call to form a second line Jazz Funeral
Two blocks off the street where midwesterners loosen their bible belts, retreat
to animal nature but stay straight enough to guard wallets from pickpockets and loose women
The French Quarter Rats and I careen from dive bar to worse dive bar
Drink in a city born below the water, toast the dancing girl in the mermaid dress
With the La Llorona eyes and a mouthful of blood, I am sure your last words were a scream
You were too loud to live too long
Even this city is covered in mold
I have dodged enough bullets, watched patterns and see how people live
When the center of them grasps that they ain't gonna die of old age
They define themselves the antonym of sociopath, devour the world one night at a time
And stretch their skin on a stage, burn until dawn, work, cry, drink and do it again
We are left here, we save our grief for elders who carried us in, never got quite this free
We ride the line between dissolute adults and walking self destruct buttons
The circus is always in town, it is our town, walking among the mundane
who accrue a slow death in their living rooms, fuck their sitcoms, their stability,
their molded plastic lives, their machinery stomachs, their empty empty talking,
If you were still alive you would be here to watch us spit on them
When the flying steel mass danced its ugly bulk over the white dashed lines
of a highway stretch that will chill your friends' tongues for years to come
When your whole life flashed like headlights or antique camera bulbs burst
When the lightning rod you carried like a secret spine broke
It was the worst criminal evidence that were normal, Jeni
That you could go from free to rooted over the mundane asphalt
No red carpet, no gig tonight, the guest list goes unchecked
All for the panicked calls that web out like a black widow in a frenzy
The femme fatale drops somewhere off screen, it all fades to shocked gray
We will not even count the dead men, they were always ready to die
In New Orleans your other home never got the call to form a second line Jazz Funeral
Two blocks off the street where midwesterners loosen their bible belts, retreat
to animal nature but stay straight enough to guard wallets from pickpockets and loose women
The French Quarter Rats and I careen from dive bar to worse dive bar
Drink in a city born below the water, toast the dancing girl in the mermaid dress
With the La Llorona eyes and a mouthful of blood, I am sure your last words were a scream
You were too loud to live too long
Even this city is covered in mold
I have dodged enough bullets, watched patterns and see how people live
When the center of them grasps that they ain't gonna die of old age
They define themselves the antonym of sociopath, devour the world one night at a time
And stretch their skin on a stage, burn until dawn, work, cry, drink and do it again
We are left here, we save our grief for elders who carried us in, never got quite this free
We ride the line between dissolute adults and walking self destruct buttons
The circus is always in town, it is our town, walking among the mundane
who accrue a slow death in their living rooms, fuck their sitcoms, their stability,
their molded plastic lives, their machinery stomachs, their empty empty talking,
If you were still alive you would be here to watch us spit on them