March 21, 2002

To Ms. Mae's

[written by Scott Frank]
For Rick, First Day of Spring
© 2002 Scott Frank


There's an old bar down in New Orleans
Where they keep the Southern ways
With drinks so cheap they're almost free
And they call this place Ms. Mae's.

Off the old tin roofs
I still hear the yells
Of Jules as he trashed the proofs
Of all our personal Hells.

And Rick, demanding order
Through a chaos deafeningly free
He tried to quiet all of us
And proclaim his latest anarchy.

I'd a love affair back then
I was obsessed with Lady Luck
And I'd sit close by the slot machines
And pull out another buck.

Well into night
These machines would rape my hunch
While the barkeep snuck in vodka
In all our rum and punch.

I'd give anything to be there now
My soul I'd gladly sell
For one night at that old beat place
S'worth eternity in Hell.

So bend your ear down low
Just stick it in my face
Get on down and catch the flow
The last words I leave this place:

There's an old bar down in New Orleans
Where they keep the Southern ways
Of happiness for goodness sake
And they call this place Ms. Mae's.



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