| So you’ve come to the Tropics
|
| And heard all you had to do
|
| Was sit in the shade of a coconut glade
|
| The pesos rolling to you
|
| They told you that at the border
|
| But get your directions straight
|
| Hear what it did to another kid
|
| Before you decide your fate
|
| I started out to be honest
|
| Put everything on the square
|
| But a boy can’t fool with the Golden Rule
|
| With a crowd that won’t play fair
|
| It was a case of winning in a dirty race
|
| Or dying with a losing hand
|
| My only hope was to steal the dope
|
| The horse of another man
|
| The Tropics, they’re worse than the habit
|
| The burning, blazing sun
|
| You break away and swear you’ll stay
|
| The Tropics call — and back you come
|
| I pulled a deal down in Brazil
|
| In an Inca silver mine
|
| Before they found it was salted ground
|
| I was safe in Argentine
|
| I ran a weight in reefer freight
|
| 'Round Cuba into the Keys
|
| I gave my soul in pirate’s gold
|
| Trying to buy myself free
|
| They called me a soldier of fortune
|
| But I sold myself like a whore
|
| Peddling booze through the Santa Cruz
|
| And Winchester 44's
|
| Made unafraid by my drunken aid
|
| The bastards came roaring down
|
| And left in a shivering, blazing mass
|
| A tiny border town
|
| I was next in charge of a smuggler’s barge
|
| In the Straits of Yucatan
|
| But she sunk in a hole off Mexico
|
| One night in a hurricane
|
| I got to shore on a broken oar
|
| In the filthy shrieking dark
|
| And the other two of the good ship’s crew
|
| Became a banquet for the shark
|
| On a fiery hot, flea ridden cot
|
| I was dying with the yellow jack
|
| Alone in the sun and damn near done
|
| She found me and pulled me back
|
| She came like the Virgin Maria
|
| And opened my fevered eyes
|
| Upon me shone a brand new dawn
|
| As I turned my face to the sky
|
| There was pride and grace in her brown young face
|
| For hers was the blood of kings
|
| In her eyes shone the glory of empires gone
|
| She was wearing the devil’s ring
|
| You see these punctures in my arm
|
| You know what they mean
|
| They were left right there by my lady fair
|
| Ms. Morphine
|
| I was dealt the eights and aces
|
| Some call the dead man’s hand
|
| God knows I’m not the one to blame
|
| For I’m only a mortal man
|
| Whatever you play, whatever the way
|
| For stakes that are large or small
|
| The claws of the tropics will gather your pile
|
| The dealer gets it all |