Lost in the Barrio I walk like an Injun,
I dance in place and paint my face
So Carlo won't suspect something's wrong here. And act like I belong here.
Throw back the little ones and pan fry the big ones,
Be glad if you can use what you borrow.
Hot licks and rhetoric don't count much for for nothing,
So I pawn my crown for ride uptown
Use tact, poise and reason and gently squeeze them. And buy it back tomorrow.
Done like a matador I pray for the weekend Before the season closes.
Else I change my bait and move upstate
And hope the little girls still throw roses. .
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