[Intro – Brass Band Warm-Up + Rain]
[Church tambourine shaking softly]
Every saint ain’t spotless.
[Brass swells slowly]
Some just survived things…
that should’ve destroyed ‘em.
⸻
[Verse 1]
🎶
Single mama workin’ double shifts tired,
Still cook Sunday meals by candlefire.
Smile worn thin but her faith stay strong,
Singin’ old hymns while life go wrong.
Old trumpet player on Rampart Street,
Still blow soul through cracked-up teeth.
Hands shaky now from years and pain,
But the music still run through his veins.
Young boy dodgin’ gangs and grief,
Tryna become more than these streets.
Church mother prayin’ through swollen eyes,
Still tellin’ everybody “God provide.”
🎶
⸻
[Hook – Choir + Brass]
🎶
Saints of the swamp arise…
Broken halos, tired eyes.
Still sing loud through the pain…
Still dance hard through the rain.
Saints of the swamp survive…
Even when the floodwaters rise.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 2]
🎶
Kitchen workers smell like grease and smoke,
Laughin’ loud just to stay afloat.
Nurses drivin’ home after night shifts long,
Still hummin’ gospel songs.
Men on porches with they pride half-broke,
Maskin’ hurt behind jokes and smoke.
Women carryin’ whole bloodlines deep,
Barely gettin’ enough sleep.
That’s the thing about Louisiana souls—
Beauty still bloom where suffering grow.
Even exhausted people somehow
Still show up for each other down South.
🎶
⸻
[Bridge – Spoken + Organ]
Holiness don’t always wear white robes.
Sometimes holiness look like:
surviving another week…
feedin’ your kids…
forgivin’ somebody…
or just…
not givin’ up.
🎶
Raise them horns into the sky tonight…
For the souls still fightin’ life.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 3]
🎶
And maybe heaven closer than we think,
Maybe grace live in ordinary things.
In second lines and front porch prayers,
In strangers askin’, “You good over there?”
Because the swamp done raised tough hearts,
But also taught us survival art.
And every scar we carry through
Proof the soul still push through.
🎶
⸻
[Final Hook – Full Choir + Orchestra]
🎶
Saints of the swamp stand tall…
Even after everything lost.
Broken halos still shine bright…
Louisiana souls survive the night.
🎶
⸻
[Outro – Brass Slowly Fading]
Some people call us broken.
The South call us survivors.
