Hurricane

Thirty miles on the Gulf Stream I hear the South wind moan.
 The bridges getting lower, 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"
 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, the 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 can hear the South wind moan
 ♪
 The Bridges getting lower, 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
 Don't mind the strain of a hurricane
 They come around every June
 The High black water, the 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
 But nobody taught her it takes a lot of water
 To wash away New Orleans