Дмитрий - There blood

Fog hangs low on Dol
Gas lamps lean
They watch you breathe
Old bricks, sweating stories
You feel eyes and the light
Old leaves
A laugh in an empty alley
Perfume in the midnight heat
Your name in a stranger's accent
Though no one's on the
There's blood on Bourbon Street
Secrets in the cobbl without WGBH's express consent
No part of this recording may be reproduced without
There's blood on Bourbon Street
And it never lets you leave
Red doors, candlelit windows, cards turned slow by weathered hands
She smiles, says, baby, I know you