As the street car persistently creaks
I look out in the heat
At all of the oak and magnolia trees
As the Victorian houses pass by
I close my eyes as I feel the easy ride
Down narrow streets of St. Charles
A story is created
Where you can envision the souls of yesterday
Living in music and food
That rises from the bumps and cracks on the streets
The souls of yesterday
Spinning their umbrellas
While they sing and dance from Uptown to Mid City
Next to the streetcars rumbling around the ''neutral ground''
Nothing can overturn the spirits
Of our ancestors
Time nor disaster could diminish this story
When yesterday hangs on to forever
As the street car persistently creaks
Torre, age 16