A short sweaty man disembarks of pan-am when the heat and humidity is
Cruel. He wipes off his face,
Puts down his suitcase, and he eases himself onto a barstool.
The T.V. plays news but it's of no use because he can't understand
The anchorman.
But he orders Irish wisky successfully,
Because he wrote the words down on his hand.
Theres a man with a tan looking native to the land,
Who's observing in a nearby booth.
With a handshake of wealth he introduces
Himself, and his sinister smile of gold tooth.
He speaks broken English but he looks quite distinguished in his
Three button mod green suit.
He offers assistance and matters for
Instance, such as escorts and prostitutes.
Drunk in the backseat of and third world taxi he's driven to the
Hotel warez. Where a man with a goat slips him
The note, and a child like handwriting it says . . .
I know a place where you can meet girls,
And at the same time you can get your vegetables.
Go see the man who's selling plantains.
Tell him you're new here, and looking or fun.
(Go on)
Follow him down to the edge of The Swamp.
There you will see in a broken down boat.
A charming old man in a while linen suit,
And lots of girls from which you can choose.
But first you must pay all currencies
Good. Take your new friend deep in the woods.
Watch her undress, and let down her hair.
You will be pleased but you better beware.
Because many of man could not stay away.
Say goodbye to their wives and just waste it away.
(Wasting away)