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