Riding on the City of New Orleans,
Hurricane Katrina Monday morning gale
fleeing cars with fearful, restless riders,
Both the freeways moving like a snail.
All along the northbound oddity
The storm comes down on Bourbon Street
Rolls right through cathouses, bars and grills.
Crashin' waves, taking no names, into
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

CHORUS:
Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me I'm a world of fun,
I'm the pain they call the Hurricane Katria,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

Dealin' hard times on Mobile Alabama.
Trashing the joint, ain't no one keepin' score.
Kick it into gear and hit the throttle
As Battleship Parkway meets the Mobile Bay floor.
And the sons of old French Quarter
And the sons of Belvedere
Ride Katrina's magic carpet made of silt.
Mothers with their babes asleep,
In the shelters as the tempest beats
With the roaring wind feeding on their fear.

Go to CHORUS

Nighttime after Hurricane Katrina,
Driving up to Memphis, Tennessee.
Half way out, we'll be there by morning
Though the Mississippi Delta's
Swallow up by the sea.
And all the towns and people seem
To fade into a bad dream
"Any survivor?" "Still ain't heard the news!"
The governors' pleas hit the air,
"Federal disaster, has been declared"
We need FEMA, Red Cross and Recovery Crews!

Good night, America, how are you?
Don't you know me I'm a world of fun,
I'm the pain they call Hurricane Katrina,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.