The first thing I remember
was the red spot on the moon.
It was back in late September
when I met that dark eyed quadroon.
They turned their backs to whisper.
They said she had the devil' stain,
but until last Sunday morning,
I could not be restrained.
There was wild wind on the water,
it was singing a sad, sad song,
the night I fell in love with her
and tried to take her home.
This is my heart, I give to you,
Right from the start, I always knew
The storm passed on the island,
on its way to New Orleans,
and it flattened all the shanties
of the gypsies and the thieves.
I saw the red flag flying
that meant for us to leave,
but Marie Lejeune from Delacroix
was too far to be retrieved.
The people down in Morgan town,
they had nowhere left to go,
and I still see her shadow
moving slowly on the shore.
Talking to the little children,
in the language of a dream.
Said, "You can do it if you're willing,
willing to be free."
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