Don't Tell Me to Leave New Orleans

Verse 1 My granddaddy played trumpet down on Rampart Street, Grandma danced all night to a second-line beat, Now the tide comes creepin' where the children used to play, And every year the water seems a little less far away. Chorus Don't tell me to leave New Orleans, Don't tell me this town is gone, The river knows my name, the oak trees know my song, You can measure all the sea rise, you can tell me what you've learned, But don't tell me to leave New Orleans till the last porch light has burned. Verse 2 The marsh grass kept the hurricanes out beyond the bay, Now the wetlands disappear a little more each day, The pumps keep workin' overtime, the levees standin' tall, But everybody knows down here they're fightin' a losing brawl. Chorus Don't tell me to leave New Orleans, Don't tell me this town is gone, The river knows my name, the oak trees know my song, You can draw another map line where the future shoreline turns, But don't tell me to leave New Orleans till the last porch light has burned. Bridge Maybe someday my grandchildren Will live on higher ground, Carry Mardi Gras memories To some inland town. But if they go, I hope they carry The music and the flame, 'Cause a city's more than streets and walls— It's the people and the name. Verse 3 Insurance keeps climbin', neighbors movin' north, Every storm reminds us what this fight is really worth, Still on a summer evening when the brass band starts to play, It's hard to believe this beautiful place could ever wash away. Final Chorus Don't tell me to leave New Orleans, Don't tell me to let it go, I've buried roots too deep here for the tide to ever know, And if one day the water wins, And takes this ground away, They'll speak of us like Atlantis, A city swept away.