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The Creole Queen was fanning herself in the smoldering heat
While the Voodoo Priestess set up shop on Bourbon Street
The Garden District millionaires were sharpening their political swords
While another kid in the Lower Ninth Ward ended up in the morgue
The sun was setting over the Mighty Mississippi
While the beaded girls of Mardi Gras were feeling a little tippy
Tourists were eating gumbo in the quarter and brunching on the canal
A painting was being sold on Magazine Street, boosting the starving artist's morale
The vintage hats and beautiful masks were on full display
The jazz funerals proceeded as the spirits came out to play
The booze was cruel and the beignets were kind
New Orleans - you are the glitter and the grind
I will stay away from the beignets finding them not kind at all....The booze is free to flow down my throat...and I would like to keep the spirits company....find the soul of the "kid in the morgue....hold his hand....while he crosses over to the bright light....I will assure him...help him feel safe....The masks I will turn away from...their beauty hides many secrets....dark...uninviting....but I know how to focus on the glitter....and maybe...just maybe makes friends with a voodoo priestess who will show me her secrets....and I become both the grind...searching....finding...the glitter...always...