Drying out the city of New Orleans
After Katrina’s flooding, wind, and rain:
Fifteen cops, one hundred bloated bodies,
Seven rowboats for twenty-five thousand strained.
All around, the floodbound refugees,
They climb their submerged SUVs,
And hug the tops of houses, spires, and trees.
If you’re white, you “find” your food;
If you’re black, you “loot” your food
As you scour stores for the flood-soaked groceries.

Good gravy, America, where are you?
Hey, don’t you hear me? I’m your Delta Queen.
I’m the place that was the city of New Orleans.
I must walk 500 miles to the next latrine!

Seeking shelter, and they’re looking for some dry ground.
Superdome Stadium, no one keeping score!
Pass around the jar that holds the urine
‘Cause there’s rapists ‘hind the bathroom door.
And the fans of Saints of football
And the fans of Super Bowl
Share that overcrowded shelter made of steel.
Bush, he sets his copter down,
He says “Good job!” to Michael Brown,
And the pressure of the press is all they feel.

Good gravy, America, where are you?
Say, don’t you miss me? I’m your Delta Queen!
I’m the place that’s been the city of New Orleans.
I’m not just a photo op in a magazine!

Four years since the city of New Orleans
Gave away its glamour to the flood.
Gone away, half its population;
Near the Mississippi shoreline, other half raking mud.
The Mardi Gras still goes along,
The Old French Quarter still strong,
But the Lower Ninth Ward ain’t heard no good news!
Why were levees built for Level 3
When Level 5 is what we need?
This nabe’s gonna disappear from fed’ral views!

Good grief, America, where are you?
Damn! Don’t ignore me; I’m your Delta Queen!
I’m the place that is the city of New Orleans.
Don’t just save one piece of me for your tourist scenes!