[Intro – Funeral Brass + Crowd Murmurs]
[Slow footsteps on wet pavement]
New Orleans taught me somethin’…
[Trumpet cries softly]
You don’t stop marchin’
just because your heart heavy.
You dance with it.
⸻
[Verse 1]
🎶
Last second line through the Quarter rain,
Black suit sharp but the soul still stained.
Gold teeth flash underneath streetlight glow,
Like survival finally learned composure.
I walked through floods, lust, ghosts, ambition,
Church guilt, codeine, bad decisions.
Swamp-born child with expensive scars,
Now the whole South live inside my bars.
Crows still circle but I ain’t afraid now,
Thunder sound like applause somehow.
Pain taught rhythm to my footsteps,
Now even my trauma got elegance.
Flow Wayne-heavy with funeral grace,
Smile slick while confrontin’ fate.
I used to flex just to hide collapse,
Now I rap like survival maps.
🎶
⸻
[Hook – Choir + Massive Brass]
🎶
Last second line tonight…
Raise them horns beneath the sky.
Last second line still move…
For every soul that made it through.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 2]
🎶
Trumpets scream through the humid dark,
Sound like ghosts finally heal they hearts.
Women dance slow in black lace gloves,
Like grief and beauty still in love.
My dawg said:
“You changed through the albums.”
I said:
“Pain eventually turn to wisdom.”
Now my spirit less paranoid lately,
Still haunted…
just less controlled by it.
I learned the swamp don’t want perfection,
Just honesty and self-reflection.
Even the Rougaroux was human first,
Just another soul destroyed by hurt.
That realization hit me heavy—
maybe monsters just men left unhealed.
🎶
⸻
[Bridge – Spoken + Organ]
The South gave me:
ghosts…
swagger…
trauma…
poetry…
survival.
And somehow…
I turned it into scripture.
🎶
Second line march through flood and flame…
Still dancin’ through the pain.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 3]
🎶
Now the river look different somehow,
Less like death…
more like passage now.
I still got scars beneath the style,
But they don’t own me now.
And if heaven ever touch this swamp,
I think it sound like brass and drums.
I think it smell like rain and smoke,
And feel like finally droppin’ the mask.
So when they play this after I’m gone,
Don’t cry too long—
just sing along.
Because Louisiana taught me one thing:
even broken souls can dance beautifully.
🎶
⸻
[Final Hook – Full Choir + Orchestra Explosion]
🎶
Last second line arise…
Black water underneath moonlight.
Last second line remain…
Louisiana forever in my veins.
Last second line tonight…
Still survivin’ through the night.
🎶
⸻
[Outro – Brass Slowly Fading]
[Crowd clapping softly as the band walks away]
This ain’t the end.
Just the last march…
before the next storm.
