Short Little Poem To Lighten The Spirits

[Mr. Crowley]

"The Baron"

Along the streets of New Orleans,

eyes are engulfed by purples, reds, and greens,

cutting through the night walkers is a big black caddy,

and behind the wheel sits the big bad voodoo daddy,

with a tux on made of purple haze,

and eyes lit up like a fiery blaze,

top hat tight and a feather to the right,

the echo of his tune floats all through the night.

Skeletons in the back are singing their song,

with cigars in their mouths and party hats on,

shrunken heads bobbin and rattle their bones,

they laugh at simple things like ratty old crones,

some call them gods, some call them sleezy,

but to the big bad voodoo daddy its just another night in the big ol' easy.