By the mounds walked by Laclede and Chouteau
Near the quenched laughter from Gaslight Square
The Spirits rising from Sid's Lair
To the lingering sound on a Crutchfield's Note
Where Braves and Eagles used to roam
Revelers ventured through Zombie Road
With a Handy's blues note
The Barn thundered past end of gloam
From Hilary's share of beads and doubloons
At the Kiel all dressed in leafs of gold
An incomplete smile behind a purple bruise
At the deafening sound of chants for the Cup
Sharpened blades shave ice into snow
Old and young sweat stabs the bitter cold
Obsession unquenched by many brews
Forever we hail the St. Louis Blues
A poem to share
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