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Katrina Katrina ©

Stewart Findlay
Kilmarnock, Scotland
2005

Mississippi’s floodin’ bad
Sad fact the refugees are mostly black
Water electricity security and gas
The same basic services missing in Iraq

a peculiar cloud now shrouds New Orleans
Casting a shadow into the dream
Them and us don’t ever meet
That it’s a third world country is plainly seen

The mayor of the town says he’s fricking pissed
The walls broke down and the water came in
Drug addicts strung out looking for a fix
The city’s submerged abandon the city

I’m gonna catch me a bridge out of this floodin’ town
No water food medicine or power
Mobile mortuaries up and down
Higher ground means drier ground

America waves from its rooftop grave
The sound of chain-saws fills the air
A middle age lady surrounded by waste
Her only possessions the curlers in her hair

Someone at the top didn’t do his job
From rooftop to rooftop
the cadaver dogs walked the walk
hands off government took too long

The rescue itself is becoming a disaster
First responders shot at by madmen
You might ask where were the guardsmen
And when does a looter become a survivor

Poor black bodies unrecovered
left to swell in the toxic water
The only pumps they got to work
Was the po-lice pump-action shot-guns

Empty trolleys from the flooded stores
The only visible means of support
Magnitude five magnitude four
Refrigerated trucks take the bodies to the morgue

On the seventh day after the flood
In this resource rich country
Bodies tethered to whatever’s standing up
To anchor them for the final numbers

There’s a guy on the porch in New Orleans shoes
Singing the words of the submarine blues
The motorway’s bridge has become the neighbourhood
This city ain't gonna be habitable any time soon

The pollution of the guzzlers warmed up the sea
All done in the name of the economy
The eye of Katrina got meaner and meaner
With greed and avarice and ignorance to feed her



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