Sunken eyes, deep in the black hollow face, dream of home.
Escaping from himself took him by surprise to the white man’s land – olé.
Mami said goodbye to the man-child she’d borne, never to see again in these lands.
I look upon his sadness and feel that the next dance is mine.
The laughing policeman in the next room surrounds himself by hope drowned in sorrow,
wishing away today for tomorrow and his dance finally comes.
Paquita, oh Paquita.
No words, no songs, only stories told from her eyes,
she dances all the time in the place we cannot share and then she too is gone.
You. You went to bed and bumped your head,
man, he gun cum get yu!
You danced your way, every day, to the rhythm of the paso doble – olé!