| Sana, sana colito de rana
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| Si, no sanas hoy
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| Bueno sana mañana
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| Mañana, mañana
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| Lo que dice Havana
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| Si, no paso hoy
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| Paso mañana
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| Fifteen Cuban minutes
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| Fairly safe to say
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| Can feel more like an hour
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| Or the entire day
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| In the land where time means nothing
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| Not hard to slip away
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| El Diablo baila sábado
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| Y los curas on Sunday
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| Fifteen Cuban minutes
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| The end is out of sight
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| So, I’ll meet you by the cannon
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| On the Malecón tonight
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| It started in Havana
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| In nineteen twenty-one
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| On the schooner Chiquimula
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| Where a party had begun
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| Primer cumpleaños
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| For a tiny lad at sea
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| And in my heart, is still
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| That faded photo of J.D.
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| Signal flags were flying
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| Atop the entire fleet
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| What a rhumba band from Santiago
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| Played the birthday boy to sleep
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| That’s the tale was told to me
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| A seadog nursery rhyme
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| And the music that was handed down
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| From a long forgotten time
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| Fifteen Cuban minutes
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| Can get lost in the fog
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| Life’s a test, just do your best
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| Like a three-legged dog
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| In the land where time means nothing
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| You can often lose your mind
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| Now place your bets, or better yet
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| Just join a conga line
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| Fifteen Cuban minutes
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| Can turn night into day
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| They’re dancin' on the tables
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| Down at El Frente
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| Another entry in the log
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| My mind put to a test
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| When we sailed with the Hemingways
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| On a schooner from Key West
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| They’d come to make a movie
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| 'Bout long forgotten times
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| See old friends, drink some rum
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| And visit family shrines
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| So how the hell did we wind up
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| Just taggin' right along
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| They were lookin' for a soundtrack
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| And heard one of my songs
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| So I sang Havana Daydreamin'
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| Just me and my guitar
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| To some very stern KGB guys
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| Tryin' to blend in at the bar
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| So for fifteen Cuban minutes
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| La bodega did ignite
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| Bongos y tumbadoras
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| Kept us up all night
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| Mojitos by the minute
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| Crowd stacked at the door
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| Niños, dogs and roosters
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| Frolicked on the floor
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| Fifteen Cuban minutes
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| Lots of give and take
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| Birthdays always come and go
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| But not a birthday cake
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| Fifteen Cuban minutes
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| Are easy to embrace
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| No calendars or watch to wind
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| No schedules to chase
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| In the land where time means nothing
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| This phrase it cries, delay
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| Put it on a t-shirt
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| And everyone will pay
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| You say minutos Cubanos
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| Dejace la drama
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| Aqui no hay AC
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| Solo la ventana
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| Music makes us happy
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| It’s in our chromosomes
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| No matter where we wander
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| The music takes us home
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| It started on the island
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| Dispersed by sweet song birds
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| Who flew north 'cross the Gulf Stream
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| And everybody heard
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| Now the clock just keeps on tickin'
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| I hear it everywhere I go
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| And I sing along in cars and bars
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| Along Calles Ocho
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| God bless Ricky Ricardo
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| And little Ricky too
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| They set my mind on island time
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| How about you?
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| The Greeks and the Egyptians
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| Had sundials in the sand
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| Now we have atomic clocks
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| That measure the Big Bang
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| Still I prefer the simple way
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| Let’s take it to the street
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| More walkin' and less talkin'
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| Tap time with your feet
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| 15 Cuban minutes
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| Still stands the test of time
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| Like a Salas photograph
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| Or a Kenneth Patchen rhyme
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| If you’re looking for a launch pad
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| No news just hearsay
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| Don’t bother with the Wi-Fi
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| Fuck Siri, ask Jośe
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| 15 Cuban minutes
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| There’s no end in sight
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| I’ll meet you by the cannon
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| On the Malecón tonight
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| Sana, sana colita de rana
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| Si, no sanas hoy
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| Bueno sana mañana
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| Mañana, mañana
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| Lo que dice Havana
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| Si, no paso hoy
|
| Paso mañana |