Let’s Talk About Widow Brown First

Before we dive into this awesome song, let’s talk about a lady in one of the verses named Widow Brown.

In this song Widow Brown goes to Marie Laveau and wants to know why her lover stopped coming around and Marie tells her and with the bad news comes the good news. Marie can work some magic and bring her lover back to her.

So this is what I like, the wronged lover is named ” Widow Brown” – so I have to wonder, what happened to her husband? Yep. I think Marie may have helped Widow Brown in that department too. 

Photo AM Moscoso

There lived a conjure-lady, not long ago,
In New Orleans, Louisiana – named Marie Laveau.
She made a fortune selling voodoo and interpreting dreams

She was known throughout the nation as The Voodoo Queen
Folks came to her from miles and miles around,
She showed them how to “put that voodoo down”
To the voodoo lady they would go – rich, educated, ignorant, and poor.
She’d snap her fingers and shake her head,
Then tell ’em ’bout their lovers – livin’ or dead.

And old, old lady named Widow Brown
She asked why her lover stopped comin’ around.
The Voodoo gazed at her squalled,
“I seen him kissin’ a toung girl up in Shakespeare’s Hall
Standin’ near an oak tree in the dark”

Poor Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, The Voodoo Queen
Way down yonder in New Orleans

Old Widow Brown, she lost her speech
Tears start rollin’ down her cheeks.
She says, “Hush, my darlin’ don’t you cry,
I’ll make him come back by and by,
Now sprinkle this snake dust on your floor,
He’ll be back Friday mornin’, when the rooster crow”

Poor Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, The Voodoo Queen
Way down yonder in New Orleans

Marie Laveau helped them in her hand
New Orleans was her promise land
Quality folks came from far and near,
This wonder woman for to hear.

They were ‘fraid to be seen at her gate,
And would creep through the dark to hear their fate.
Holdin’ dark veils over their head,
They would tremble to hear what Marie Laveau said.

Poor Marie Laveau, Marie Laveau,
The Voodoo Queen from New Orleans.

She made gris-gris with an old ram horn,
Stuffed with feathers and shucks from a corn.
A big black cat urn and catfish fin,
Made a man get religion and give up his sin .

Poor Marie Laveau,
Marie Laveau, The Voodoo Queen,
She got rich on voodoo in New Orleans.
Sad news got our mornin’ at the dawn of day,

Marie Laveau had passed away.
In St. Louis’ Cementery she lays in her tomb,
She was buried at night on the waste of the moon.

Poor Marie Laveau, Oh, Marie Laveau.
The folks STILL believe in the Voodoo Queen,
‘Way down yonder in New Orleans’


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