Take the 1800's before the inception of modern day ideals, Fake grip of appeals straight to the street run, no Bar room virgin, double vision - cocaine, to a whore house of pain New Orleans is a dying whore, naked she sleeps on my floor The spreading highway, the underwater staircase Leading up to a black room, to leave there you're a fool Mob world politics, so broke it can't fix, trapped In a time zone, there's no place like home New Orleans is a dying whore, naked she sleeps on my floor
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