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| Surviving in the City of New Orleans, Looting stores, sandbagging your home... | |
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| Or sweltering inside the darkened outhouse That proves to be a not-so-Superdome. | |
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| The bureaucrats won't let you leave, The growing stench makes you dry-heave, And at the seams the whole damned place is bustin! | |
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| After five days they let you go Onto a bus, and westward ho! Shoehorned into another dome in Houston. | |
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| Good mourning, America, how are you? Don't you know me, I'm your place for fun. | |
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| I'm the clogged drain called the City of New Orleans, I'll be sunk 80% when the day is done. | |
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