There's a whole lot of trouble in the neighborhood. I heard a lot of shootin' and it ain't no good. Tempers burnin' like kindlin' wood, I say it ain't no coolin' that Bayou blood. Marcel was beatin' on Uncle Paul. Papa said he's got to find a law. We know Marcel has got to pay, 'cause Bayou blood is thick that way. Marcel's people, they won't back down. I say they got a lot of guns and they flash them around. And mama been cryin' and I think she Knows that some Bayou blood is about to flow. Ain't no talkin' gonna do no good, 'Cause it ain't no coolin' that Bayou blood. Papa said there gonna be a war. Marcel had took things a little too far. Tempers burnin' like kindlin' wood, It ain't no coolin' that Bayou blood. Mama says everybody gotta move, Now it's three more days down in Baton Rouge. Tears are flowin' like the Mississippi flood. Ain't no coolin' that Bayou blood. (Ahhh, yeah, mama told me that.) (And that Marcel, we never seen him again. They musta dragged him out to the swamp. Gave him to the "gaaators.")