The dragon left his lofty lair
and the jesters attended the queen
when he wander into the market square
in the city of New Orleans
A voodoo Princess was selling her wares
on a corner of Bourbon street
The saxophone cried at the bar next door
and she swayed to it's haunting beat
With a crook of her finger she called him over
She said this is not what it seems
She lead him into an alley bar
In the city of New Orleans
He took a drink from her tall black glass
and thought how it tasted too sweet
When he awoke he had a rope
tied on his hands and his feet
The Princess had a long black whip
Her flavor of her love was mean
She knew how to make things hurt
in the city of New Orleans
If you ever make it to Bourbon Street
and the saxophone starts to cry
steer clear the voodoo Princess
and you might make it home alive
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Copyright Clara Keiper
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem