New Orleans, the French Quarter
Her eyes illuminate in the streets
Jazz bands dance with her spirit
As the enchantment of the night begins

Her soul, out of body, out of mind
Like water, boundless, dances with devils
Under street lamps, in our world
Marionette strings sever into liberation

Oh! What freedom, to be, to exist
As an experience, unable to be captured
Not by the words that bind her to the pages,
Nor world which demands of her

All the while she knows,
She doesn't owe it a **** thing.