Earl K. Long and Chep Morrison lived their lives a-feuding, But they're both dead and I have read it stopped all the confusion. But folks have said that when we're dead we ain't really done; We'll come back as something else and fly or crawl or run. Now I don't know if that is so, but I'll tell you what I seen The other day while on my way through Winnfield town so green. Standing there in Earl Long Square on the spot where he was born Was Uncle Earl in a business suit when suspenders he'd have worn. He was 10 feet tall and made of brass all rusty brown and green, And he was solo there in Earl Long Square except for what I seen. Above his head up in the air Earl's hand was like he's waving. Perched up there like on a chair seemed to be a raven. Well, that bird did blink and I did think its beak was actually grinning And staring straight in Earl Long's face as if it planned on sinning. And then it flew and I then knew that death is just a dawning; We'll come back as something else and feud and keep on wronging. 'Cause that bird took flight with all its might; I swear it was a race. And when it flew what I saw it do was shit in Earl Long's face. Now, I don't know, it could be so, the truth in all of that, But I'll bet down in Winnfield town, Earl Long's come back a cat.

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