Crónicas de Nueva Orleans

“A man of words and not of deeds 

Is like a garden full of weeds

And when the weeds begin to grow 

It's like a garden full of snow 

And when the snow begins to fall 

It's like a bird upon the wall 

And when the bird away does fly 

It's like an eagle in the sky 

And when the sky begins to roar 

It's like a lion at the door 

And when the door begins to crack 

It's like a stick across your back 

And when your back begins to smart

It's like a penknife in your heart 

And when your heart begins to bleed 

You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed.”

― Percy B. Green