La Viuda de O'Brian

This is the true story of Mery

She was a volcano with a body made for sin
Her red hair was like fire
Where everyone wanted to burn
And be consumed until dawn

After closing the bar, she was an ornament
For young men to have dinner
The other menu was offered further inside
The catch of the day perhaps
And clam in its juice for ten

Sentenced to loneliness
And between her legs a maybe
To smile again
To be happy again

Sweet Mery, where are you?
Who stole your youth?
Renting out some love
Your office was a mattress
Handing out checks of pain

And that's how I met that beautiful barmaid
When I, hungry, asked for dinner
She smiled in a way, I suggest
The food she offered me
On my knees, she devoured me
I have rarely dined so lightly
There are few places with such a special menu
We left breathless and it wasn't summer
I still have the crimson mark
Surrounding my other nostril

Sentenced to loneliness
And between her legs a maybe
To smile again
To be happy again

Sweet Mery, where are you?
Who stole your youth?
Renting out some love
Your office was a mattress
Handing out checks of pain

Days passed, flowers grew
I never forgot her, as she remains in me
Since that night, I still have itches
And more bugs than in a whole garden
I have stopped dining there

Sentenced to loneliness
And between her legs a maybe
To smile again
To be happy again

Sweet Mery, where are you?
Who stole your youth?
Renting out some love
Your office was a mattress
Handing out checks of pain