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With yellow feathers in her hair |
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And a dress cut down to there |
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And while she tried to be a star |
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They worked from eight til four |
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They were young and they had each other |
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The hottest spot north of Havana (,here) |
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Music and passion were always in fashion at the Copa |
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He was escorted to his chair |
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He saw Lola dancing there |
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But Rico went a bit too far |
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Tony sailed across the bar |
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And then the punches flew |
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And chairs were smashed in two |
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There was blood and a single gunshot |
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But that was thirty years ago |
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When they used to have a show |
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Still in the dress she used to wear |
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Faded feathers in her hair |
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She sits there so refined |
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And drinks herself half-blind |
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She lost her youth and she lost her Tony |
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