Palo de mayo

Tomorrow I leave again for Managua, I have an appointment at the Parnaso bookstore.
I met with a few girls who work at a night club.
They want to take me to the neighborhood to dance, they will teach me the Maypole dance.
I'm a good dancer with a few drinks, too clumsy if I overdo it.

Their beauty allows them to be punishing: I won't refuse.
They will be the ones to decide, and I won't refuse.

If they listened more, they wouldn't be like this, just like without pain, there's no blues.
I don't know if there's someone on the rooftop, or like the tide, they come and go.
Whatever they suggest, I won't refuse.
I'll drink, they'll bring the weed, and I won't refuse.

Their beauty allows them to be punishing: I won't refuse.
They will be the ones to decide, and I won't refuse.

Whatever they suggest, I won't refuse.
I'll smoke, they'll bring the weed, and I won't refuse.
To the Maypole, Maypole. To the Maypole.