Lyrics

Traveling alone in the Crescent City
Wandering the French Quarter just about dusk
I meet a creole woman, so petite, so pretty,
With eyes so piercing my nerve ends blush.

Chorus
As I take her hand, her eyes say that I'll never be the same,
While her lips simply say,
MARIE, MARIE LAVEAU'S the name.

We roam unmarked streets in unmapped sections,
To haunts time has forgot or possibly fled.
I feel jealous whispers aimed in my direction
When she tells me to come home and share her bed.

Chorus
As her arms ensnare me in
I know I'll never be the same.
While through the dark she moans
MARIE, MARIE LAVEAU's the name.


From Lake Pontchatrain to the Bayou St. John
In a thousand places a thousand people I've asked
And I search every night from dusk to dawn
But those who've known Marie are all long past.

As the dawn finger-paints the sky with purple,
I awake with a thousand poundings in my head,
While my hand's caressing some chalk-crossed circle,
On a granite tomb in the City of the Dead.

Chorus
As I read the words over the door,
I know I'll never be the same.
For a hundred years they've said
MARIE, MARIE LAVEAU's the name.
As I read the words over the door,
I know I'll never be the same.
For a hundred years they've said
MARIE, MARIE LAVEAU's the name.
Marie Laveau’s the name, Marie Laveau’s the name,
Marie Laveau’s the name.