Barrels by the bay under a naked violet moon.
A mist so very grey after the wake that afternoon.
A dancing mademoiselle who wore her hair like a crown.
Broken out of hell now I'm Lafayette bound.
Hear a crow's prophetic cry over the square of La Rochelle.
He was singing to the sky like he was Blind Willie McTell.
Buon voyague ma charogne. Don't you make a sound
It's time for me to carry on towards Lafayette bound.
I saw a minstrel on a cross over the charcoal parade.
He's done woken from the moss to end this masquerade.
With the ashes from Babylon and the chase from hell's hound.
This road that I travel on is Lafayette bound.