(原詩)

Lost in the barrio,
I walk like an injun
So Carlo won't suspect
That something's wrong here
I dance in place
And paint my face
And act like I belong here

Throw back the little ones
And pan fry the big ones
Use tact, poise and reason
And gently squeeze them

Hot licks and rhetoric
Don't count much for nothing
Be glad if you can use
What you borrow
So I pawn my crown
For a ride uptown
And buy it back tomorrow

Throw back the little ones
And pan fry the big ones
Use tact, poise and reason
And gently squeeze them

(interlude)

Done like a matador,
I pray for the weekend
And hope the little girls
Still throw roses
Else I'll change my bait
And move upstate
Before the season closes

Throw back the little ones
And pan fry the big ones
Use tact, poise and reason
And gently squeeze them