Ah, the sweet, sultry sounds of southern resilience! This ditty is an ode to New Orleans, a city well-versed in weathering literal and metaphorical storms. The narrative unfolds through the eyes of a whiskey-tippling old man from the Quarter, as unyielding as the city he calls home. Hurricanes? Just another summer event on par with Mardi Gras. Outsiders may fret over levee heights, but our protagonist knows that it takes more than high water to wash away his beloved city. It's a gritty love letter to New Orleans' enduring spirit - acknowledging its struggles with natural disasters but celebrating its unwavering resolve. So here's to resilience - may we all have the tenacity of this old man and his indomitable city!
Hurricane
Lyrics
Thirty miles on the Gulf Stream
I hear the south wind moan
The bridges getting lower
The 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"
But 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, 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
Thirty miles on the Gulf Stream
I hear the South wind moan
Bridges getting lower
The shrimp boats coming home
The old man down in the Quarter
Slowly turns his head
Takes a drink 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
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
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
Nobody taught her, it takes a lot of water
To wash away New Orleans
Writer(s): Stewart Harris, Thomas Schuyler, Keith Stegall
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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