New Orleans, no means
No, not, by all means,
all my sins considered
They don’t own me, I keep telling
Sadly their guild does, owes my fucking ass
And all I do is write and hearing N.O. brass.
They don’t owe me, you gently explain to thee,
And so many steps remain to really be set free.
Now, is there a way like a fast lane or I am I here to stay?
Slay or not slay, die by proper choice,
Refuse to be a puppet in a cold dark stray?