Our story began in a dark corner of the 'Tropicana' nightclub, south of Bissonnet.

 

The first night we met you barely could dance

I loved your gentle face at the very first glance

Your feet were swollen by the long desert trip

Your ID was stolen,  your pretty heart was knit

It's hard to talk when Mariachi music blares

My Spanish was good, but  ear drums hurt

I'll never forget your hazel brown eyes

A world-class of charm until your demise

We became lovers, how else could the story be

I touched your gentle soft body and set you free

You were my good mistress for three years or two

It wasn't  in the law book, but our love was true

Now I've lost you, don't know since how long

I haven't looked out for you since you were gone

Perhaps you returned to your southern dry lands

I know you still love me, my dear lady friend

Relations like ours were not made to last

But I'm not regretful, to say the least

(c) 2004 by Franz L Kessler