And that maiden doesn't love him,
It's the same as when a bald man
Finds a comb upon the highway.
The cucaracha, the cucaracha,
Doesn't want to travel on
Because she hasn't,
Oh no, she hasn't
Marihuana for to smoke.
All the maidens are of pure gold;
All the married girls are silver;
All the widows are of copper,
And old women merely tin.
My neighbor across the highway
Used to be called Doa Clara,
And if she has not expired
Likely that's her name tomorrow.
All the girls up at Las Vegas
Are most awful tall and skinny,
But they're worse for plaintive pleading
Than the souls in Purgatory.
All the girls here in the city
Don't know how to give you kisses,
While the ones from Albuquerque
Stretch their necks to avoid misses.
All the girls from Mexico
Are as pretty as a flower
And they talk so very sweetly,
Fill your heart quite up with love.
One thing makes me laugh most hearty
Pancho Villa with no shirt on
Now the Carranzistas beat it
Because Villa's men are coming.
Fellow needs an automobile
If he undertakes the journey
To the place to which Zapata
Ordered the famous convention.
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
"La Cucaracha" as written by Pd Traditional Harry Bluestone
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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