I know why the sky rolls on the edge of New OrleansThe blue billows like the waves of PontchartrainAngry waves, fervent ones, rise like dead from turquoise gravesCollapsing clouds with the force of hurricanesEve's approaching; rush, rush rushMust make arrival 'fore night comesThe ceiling's black; no stars, no moonShadows chase the remains of the sunStill in spite of the night I will journey on westTo deliver my daddy's bo...