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As dead innocents depart\r\nTo Hades in shopping carts\r\nEverything will look alright to thee\r\nPut silver dollars o\'er yer eyes\r\nSo yer don\'t have to criticize\r\nThen yeeze can all make out\r\nYer didn\'t see!\r\n\r\nWe beg you, don\'t ignore us\r\nWas painted on their doors\r\nWill anybody help them\r\nWith their plight?\r\n\r\n\'When you need our sons to fight a war\r\nOn a far off foreign shore\r\nEven when our conscience\r\nSays it\'s not right\r\nThen, you would move quick\r\nTo climb over dying, old and sick\r\nTo ferry young boys out sharpish, at first light\'!\r\n\r\nAs a city with no soul\r\nStarts to stumble, then to roll\r\nLike a boxer who has lost the will to fight\r\nLike two lovers who must part\r\nWith such sad, despairing hearts\r\nWill this city and its people e\'re re-unite?\r\n\r\nAs the sickness and disease\r\nIs floating like a breeze\r\nA thought keeps re-occurring in my head\r\nFor two weeks, this has gone on\r\nIs two weeks too much, too long\r\nTo deny some sort of dignity to the dead?\r\n\r\nIn the city of New Orleans\r\nAs the darkness turns to black\r\nThere are people leaving\r\nWho are never coming back!