You're starin' through the screen door 
At the storm clouds forming over Pontchartrain
But I know ya better baby
Your black mood ain't comin' from the rain
You been talkin' to your confidant
And it shore ain't about no hurricane

Well, I know you got some next of kin
You tore it up all over New Orleans
Now my ring's around your middle finger
Girl, I know exactly what that means
I'll bet they're buyin' what you're sellin'
On the dark side of that street called Magazine

Oh my Angelina
Girl, what you tryin' to prove
Ya got a heart full of lonely
And a mind that's so confused
Oh my Angelina
The highway's got a hook in you
Tonight it might be Mobile
And tomorrow Baton Rouge

Instrumental break

Repeat Chorus
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