By Bob Malone
From “Bob Malone” (1998)
Well I was born right outside New York City
‘Cross the river on the Jersey side
And all my life, something was missing
But I never used to wonder why
Because we never had no grits for breakfast
Or a Friday night Fais Do Do
But the first time I heard “Tipitina”
I knew where I had to go…
CHORUS
‘Cause I was born a Yankee
But God was only foolin’ around
When I finally found my feet on Rampart Street
I knew I’d found my real hometown
And when it’s time to go
I’ll be goin’ down in the Land of Dreams
‘Cause I was born a Yankee
But you can bury me in New Orleans
Now there’s cypress trees swayin’ in the breeze
To the rhythm of the second-line
And if you crave a Cajun stew or a crawfish boil
You can find ‘em ‘bout any time
And there’s all that good music in the streets
And sin in the air
And no matter where I go
In my dreams I’m always there…
CHORUS
And back home in February they’ll be buried
In the snow waiting for the thaw
But down in the Crescent City
They’ll be goin’ to the Mardi Gras…
CHORUS
© 1998 Born Too Late Music (SESAC)