The gutters are filled and the streets overflowing
The raindrops keep falling, the winds keep on blowing
And just when it will stop, there’s no way of knowing
So batten the hatches, and prepare for rowing
The skies are dark grayish, and no light is shining
For warm winds and sunshine we all are a-pining
But there’s no use whimpering or in complaining
As long as the levee walls keep on retaining
And what of parades, and the Mardi Gras Krewing?
In this type of weather, what can they be doing?
Well, most of them are stuck inside and are brewing
Just watching the sky with its endless wet spewing
This year, Mother Nature is throwing her beads
And thinking what plants, not what drunken fools need
Her parade a raincloud that cold water bleeds
Refreshing the green world that hungrily feeds
So think not the fun is spoiled by this downpour
(though most of the tourists, I’m sure, are quite sore)
It’s not like no one’s seen flashed titties before
And the world can live without a year’s worth, I’m sure
Besides, the forecast says the rain will die down
enough to enable all jesters and clowns
to cram themselves into a few miles, uptown
and leave their wet trash lying there on the ground.
26 FEB 2003
