|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Rescuing the City of New Orleans, FEMA finally sends a thousand men. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Volunteer medics come south to help, Without approval, they're sent home again. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| The prez laughs and strums his guitar, While the VP vacations far From any place where he might be of use. | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| The Guard shows up after a week, Authorized to shoot the ones they seek, Haven't those poor folk had enough abuse? | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Good night, America, how are you? Don't you know me, I'm your place for fun. | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| I'm the clogged drain called the City of New Orleans, I'll be sunk 80% when the day is done. | |
| | |
|
|
|
