This is amazing! I couldn’t not share this 🙂
She was long and lovely from ‘way down south,
she had blood on her hands, blood on her mouth.
She’d got voodoo spells and incantations.
She lived on one of those big plantations.
Had she done something bad? Well I don’t know.
She went by the name of Marie Laveau.
She had golden skin and curly black hair,
down near the bayou you could find her there,
with her big old snake wrapped ’round and ’round,
it was party time when the sun went down.
Cauldron would bubble and naked they’d dance,
potions concocted, ’round the fire she’d prance.
She had a mojo hand, a black cat bone,
wouldn’t want her to catch you all alone.
There were stories told of the men she’d charmed;
like her husband Jacques, he wasn’t alarmed,
he just disappeared, he never returned,
just ashes left and the incense she burned.
Stroll though the graveyard…
View original post 122 more words