it was pretty quiet that night on Bourbon St.
not many people walking around
the music was turned down, then off
let ‘em work on the victim in peace
a stab wound, a fatal wound
the drink will flow the blood will spill indeed
rooted in randomness
police cars all around
that tamped down the festivities
how dare they?
a fire truck washing down the sidewalk
hide that unsightly blood
tonight it’s back to normal
loud music, loud people
the liquor will pour
who could ask for more?
life in the French Quarter goes on
except for the guy who got slashed
and was D.O.A.
