Masters Of Reality - The Whore Of New Orleans

Текст песни

The driving rain hit five o’clock in the morning
The streets were clear the storm
Came in without warning
She’s on a ship of amber on the black water
She’s coming home she’s going to get
What she’s after now
Swing down low
Swing down low
Light a candle for the whore of New Orleans
Rising high to touch the souls long departed
On resolution now the end’s finally started
We’d better hurry don’t impale me with worry now
Oh, oh
I dreamt I met the Pharisees
In a wooden house on broken beams
On a mudslide down a hill
Holding on to broken will
They tied my Lord to the whipping post
Please don’t take him away
They tied my Lord to the whipping post
Please don’t take him away
Don’t take him away, don’t take him away
Don’t take him away, don’t take him away
He got no place to go, he got no place to go
He got no place to go, he got no place to go
I lost my home in the wicked flood
Please don’t send me away
I lost my home in the wicked flood
Please don’t send me away
Don’t send me away, don’t send me away
Don’t send me away, don’t send me away
I’ve got no place to go, I’ve got no place to go
I’ve got no place to go, he got no place to go
I’ve got no place to go, I’ve got no place to go
I’ve got no place to go, he got no place to go
No no