Just thought folks here might like to hear this....it's my song to the old New Orleans...I know another will rise, but it will never be the same...

Anyway, you can hear it and download it for free at:

http://www.soundclick.com/lawrencebullock

Just click on music. Should be at the top of the list.


New Orleans Has Disappeared

Oh, when the levee breaks, that’s all she wrote
And it’s a four page letter, not a note
The word has come to places far and near
The news that New Orleans has disappeared

Oh when the saints go marching in, they'll have to wade
Come join us in the funeral parade
A fool is leading, death brings up the rear
Bon temps in New Orleans have disappeared

CHORUS
The waters rise
and cities fall
Oh lord, please hear us when we call

BRIDGE
Oh now ain't this thing a mess?
That's for certain, ma cherie
It's gon' be hard I bet
To take it easy
Au revoir Big Easy...

BREAK

You old dirty city, shame on you for sin
Last night I dreamed of Huckleberry Finn
He was on his way to hell, but wound up here
Cause you can’t tell hell from New Orleans this year

CHORUS
The waters rise
and cities fall
Oh lord, please hear us when we call

The waters rise
and cities fall
Oh lord, please hear us when we call

Thursday 11:20 p.m 9/22/05

I’m not a folk singer or even much of a writer. But I was listening to Deportee on the way home from bowling tonight. I’m getting ready to head to Plains GA for a Fuller Center for Housing (www.fullercenterforhousing.org) board meeting.

On Monday, I am flying with Habitat for Humanity founder Millard Fuller to Shreveport to see about starting the construction of 80 homes for hurricaine evacuees.

Lots on my mind and as I was listening to Deportee and thinking about those that went uncounted in the World Trade Center attack because they were illegal immigrants.

My father-in-law worked at WTC and he educated me on the fact that there were many more killed than the official numbers.

I also thought about those in the Gulf Region who are unable to apply for aid because again they are illegal immigrants. I thought about how our engines of commerce and capitalism depend on the hard work of illegal immigrants.

If I were a folk song writer, I would write something about the “expendable uncountables” and the hard work they do for all of us. Then I would juxtapose that thought with the phrase “You are doing a hell of a job Brownie!” to remind people of the inadequate policies by a government that is out of touch.

I know I’m supposed to be packing, but you can’t always do what you are supposed to do.

If anyone more eloquent than I am wants to reshape the thoughts, please run with the idea.

Kirk

In Harrisonburg, VA