Esa negrita que va caminando Esa negrita tiene su tumbao Y cuando la gente la va mirando Ella baila de lao va bien apretao La negra tiene tumbao Y no
negra tiene tumba'o me tiene tumba'o, me tiene tumba'o y no camina de la'o me tiene tumba'o, me tiene tumba'o. Ay? tumba'o, ay? tumba'o nunca camina
Translation: Celia Cruz. La Negra Teine Tumbao.
Translation: Paulo FG. El Tumbao De Lola.
Long ago things to be Ive got a garden hose and a color tv I've got time on my hands I've got time on my hands Nobody cares what I do Long ago things
Your brains went black, when she took back her love And put it out into the sun, the birds did fly When the heavens all went dry And the cigarettes were
Stand outside with a suitcase (There's a forcefield round my neck) Walk around all the while (And it stands just where I sat) Look at the people driving
Fourteen rivers, fourteen floods Bend your body to the heavens above Don't get drunk, don't get dry Just bring your money next Saturday night Fourteen
Go where you want to Do the things you feel Walk around with a broken leg And a hundred-dollar bill Get yourself a pistol Get yourself a dog Stay up
Definitely this is the wrong place to be There's blood on the futon There's a kid drinking fire Going down to the sea They got people to meet Shaking
Well, there ain't nobody left to impress And everyone's kissing their own hands This 666 on the kitchen floor Ain't no fire in the pan? I get lonesome
There's nobody, there's no mountain There's no tunnel You can't get from there to here You can't get here to there There's nobody, there's no mountain
Close your eyes and see water Sliding up the back of your head Folding into your clothing Covering everything you said Climb up into No one's gonna miss
From these shores where we belong I have seen the land beyond Where the Lord is strange and strong I have seen the land beyond There's no telling who
I wake up and look upon your painted eyelids The world is your oyster and the trash bags are your kids The ceiling is invisible, there's a bird sinkin
Open up the door Lay the orange juice on the floor We're having a picnic on the other side of town There's sleeping bags and fire And it's getting down
