Walking down that same old Street again. I'm alone, and the streets Smell of filty water. The bars are closed, but It doesn't change a thing. The sounds of laughter Echo in my mind. Was it so long ago that The streets only smelled Of stale beer? How I long for the days To return. Thumbs in my pocket, I turn to see a City that sleeps. I long to hear the Jazz, As I walk along The sidewalks.. I long to feel the Breeze from the Mississippi.. I sit on the Grass, Gazing out at The Cajun Queen, Longing for New Orleans.