A Spirit Walks Through Gas-Lit Streets

In the Vieux Carré on All Hallows' Eve

Where voodoo and piracy interweave

My spirit walks through gas-lit streets

Where living and dead sometimes meet

Down Bourbon Street the revelers sway

Past my old blacksmith shop they stray

Not knowing that behind these walls

My ghostly crew still makes their calls

The witches dance in Jackson Square

While vampire stories fill the air

And through the fog on Royal Street

My phantom footsteps still repeat

So if you're wandering late at night

Past wrought iron gates in dim gaslight

And feel a chill upon the breeze

It's just old Jean among the trees

For New Orleans keeps her secrets well

More stories than the living tell

And on All Hallows' Eve they say

The pirates still come out to play