was a little spanish flea A record star he thought he'd be He heard of singers like Beetles and The Chipmunks he'd seen on TV Why not a little spanish
, know exactly what to do Since you're a symphony from me and you, and you, and you With every up and down Playing your body like the strings on a Spanish Guitar
the whirlwind's hold Except the jailer and his pack of cards And I sit outside watching falling stars Playing D minor chords on a Spanish guitar Well
Yeah in the studio, in the studio Studio oh, oh, teddy bear Kind of big, oh Girl just close your eyes And picture me playing your Spanish guitar Baby
is started know exactly what 2 do Sensual symphony from me and u, and u , and u With every up and down Playing your body like the strings of a Spanish guitar
the sound of Carlos Santana And the GMB Ghetto blues from the refugee camp Oh Maria, Maria She remind me of a westside story Growing up in Spanish Harlem
sorrowful tune Comin' from the place they called the spanish moon Well I stepped inside, and I stood by the door While dark-eyed girls sang and played the guitar
Mosquitos buzzin' round my head Spanish moss for my bed Very seldom see dry land cause I'm an alligator man I hunt the gator all night long sell his hide
Here I wander, where sweet sage and strange herbs grow Down a sun baked crumpled stony road Dusty wheels leaning rusting in the sun Snuff brown walls where Spanish
Defenders of that way of life The redbrick home, the bourgeoisie Guitar lessons for the wife So many years, we suffered here Our country racked with Spanish
at the New Amsterdam Starin' at this yellow-haired girl Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation With a black-haired flamenco dancer You know, she dances while his father plays guitar
to be but I'm not me without you It's a beautiful song to be sung but no one to sing It's this beat up old guitar missing a string It's me calling in
we might be taking chances But going nowhere is more than we can stand I'll be your romeo, you can be my Spanish dancer I'll play my guitar in a Mariacha
concealing All that my eyes are revealing? Lady of Spain, I love you Night in Madrid, blue and tender Spanish moon makes silver splendor Music throbbing, plaintive sobbing notes of a guitar
Well, there was seven years between us Seems that all my friends were right That we can?t survive on your bedroom eyes And a Spanish guitar When we started
She stared at me and said why can't I look like that Ih what a sucker, a skinny fool, as she sat pining for that Spanish prat. [Guitar Time] Morning
I'd walk across the M.1. I'd trek through the Amazon I'D BE A SPANISH MATADOR, NOWT WOULD BE TOO RISKY FOR ME I'd loop the loop in a Jumbo I'd box with