The river carries every name we left behind. Mist on the levee at break of day, your shadow drifts where the waters sway. I hear your voice in a distant hymn, New Orleans breathes you limb by limb. The streets remember our quiet tune, a slow parade beneath the moon. Your laughter curls like river steam, haunting the corners of every dream. The night still hums our broken blues, The wind repeats the words we lose, And time drifts down the avenue. New Orleans, where the river ghosts are calling, your heart beats low through every rise and falling. Between the thunder and the rain, I find your name again, again. The bayou whispers a soft refrain, your footsteps melt into the rain. A lantern glows where we once stood, echoes of light in the driftwood. The water keeps our secrets near, The night forgives what we held dear, And everything we lost stays here. New Orleans, where the river ghosts are calling, your pulse moves slow through every rise and falling. Between the silence and the storm, your voice returns — and keeps me warm.
