Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler!
When death and suffering's around
And there is no one to call,
There's still a sign of life that's found
Within these silent streets and walls.
The government can screw the poor
But it can never kill their soul,
There is a spirit bright and pure -
Zydeco, Cajun and Creole.
You cannot kill the Crescent City
With contracts that would turn it all
Into a suburb looking pretty
With condos and big shopping malls.
Let them pour billions on construction
To ease the guilt of those who sold
The city's poor to face destruction
Exacted by Katrina's toll.
And when the streets are filled with laughter,
With jazz and blues to lift the soul,
Forget their phony hereafter -
Just live and let the good times roll!