| I used to wake up every morning saying I must be getting away with something
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| here
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| Every day was like parole before the levees overflowed; |
| I refuse to think it
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| could all just disappear (I refuse to think)
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| How long before the street car rattles down St. Charles Avenue and beads swing
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| from two hundred year old trees
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| How long before they walk down long Lake Pontratrain with the smell of just
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| magnolia on the breeze
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| Yeah I’ve seen people laughing all the way down to the cemeteries just to send
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| another soul off on its way
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| Yeah I’ve seen them dance right up to the edge of it
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| But this time their gonna dance back from the grave
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| Dance back
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| Dance back
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| Dance back
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| Dance back from the grave
|
| Well a thousand souls crossed over and they were greeted by an all-star band
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| And while the saints go marching in there’s still hell to pay back down in
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| Dixie Land
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| Yeah the storms are headed south again and the hour’s getting pretty late
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| Somebody better build that levee its already Mardi Gras at heavens gate (yeah)
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| Dance back
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| Dance back
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| Dance back
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| Dance back from the grave
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| Dance back
|
| Dance back
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| Get your tambourines, slide trombones
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| And dance… back from the grave
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| Oh yeah, ooh yeah, ooh yeah
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| So don’t shed a tear for them tonight as they circle and swoop and promenade
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| They’re just carrying their torches and marching in a heavenly parade
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| No don’t shed a tear but take their cue there’s only one thing left to do in
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| the name of every soul we didn’t save
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| From the ninth ward to the quarter to the Mississippi border dance back from
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| the grave
|
| Dance back
|
| Dance back
|
| Dance back
|
| Dance back from the grave
|
| Dance back
|
| Dance back
|
| Get your tambourines, slide trombones
|
| And dance… back from the grave
|
| Oh yeah, oh yeah
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| Get your tambourines, slide trombones
|
| And dance… back from the grave |