| There’s a moon over bourbon street tonight
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| I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight
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| I’ve no choice but to follow that call
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| The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all
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| I pray everyday to be strong
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| For I know what I do must be wrong
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| Oh you’ll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
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| While there’s a moon over bourbon street
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| It was many years ago that I became what I am
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| I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb
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| Now I can never show my face at noon
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| And you’ll only see me walking by the light of the moon
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| The brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast
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| I’ve the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
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| Oh you’ll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
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| While there’s a moon over bourbon street
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| She walks everyday through the streets of New Orleans
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| She’s innocent and young from a family of means
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| I have stood many times outside her window at night
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| To struggle with my instinct in the pale moonlight
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| How could I be this way when I pray to god above
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| I must love what I destroy and destroy the thing I love
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| Oh you’ll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
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| While there’s a moon over bourbon street |