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The Tropics

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bertie higgins
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2016-12-21

  The Tropics - Bertie Higgins

  So you've come to the Tropics

  And heard all you had to do

  Was sit in the shade of a coconut glade

  The pesos rolling to you

  They told you that at the border

  But get your directions straight

  Hear what it did to another kid

  Before you decide your fate

  I started out to be honest

  Put everything on the square

  But a boy can't fool with the Golden Rule

  With a crowd that won't play fair

  It was a case of winning in a dirty race

  Or dying with a losing hand

  My only hope so I could hold

  With steal a horse of another man

  The Tropics they're worse than the habit

  The burning blazing sun

  You break away and swear you'll stay

  The Tropics call and back you come

  I pulled a deal down in Brazil

  In an Inca silver mine

  Before they found it was salted ground

  I was safe in Argentine

  I sell a lot to pirate's gold

  'Round Cuba into the Keys

  I gave my soul in pirate's gold

  Trying to buy myself free

  They called me a soldier of fortune

  But I sold myself like a whore

  Peddling booze through the Santa Cruz

  And Winchester 44's

  Made unafraid by my drunken aid

  The bastards came roaring down

  And left in a shivering blazing mass

  A tiny border town

  The Tropics they're worse than the habit

  The burning blazing sun

  You break away and swear you'll stay

  The Tropics call and back you come

  I was next in charge of a smuggler's barge

  In the Straits of Yucatan

  But she sunk in a hole off Mexico

  One night in a hurricane

  I got to shore on a broken oar

  In the filthy shrieking dark

  And the other two of the good ship's crew

  Became a banquet for the shark

  On a fiery hot flea ridden cot

  I was dying with the yellow jack

  Alone in the sun and damn near done

  She found me and pulled me back

  She came like the Virgin Maria

  And opened my fevered eyes

  Upon me shone a brand new dawn

  As I turned my face to the sky

  The Tropics they're worse than the habit

  The burning blazing sun

  You break away and swear you'll stay

  The Tropics call and back you come

  There was pride and grace in her brown young face

  For hers was the blood of kings

  In her eyes shone the glory of empires gone

  She was wearing the devil's ring

  You see these punctures in my arm

  You know what they mean

  They were left right there by my lady fair

  Ms Morphine

  I was dealt the eights and aces

  Some call the dead man's hand

  God knows I'm not the one to blame

  For I'm only a mortal man

  Whatever you play whatever the way

  For stakes that are large or small

  The claws of the tropics will gather your pile

  The dealer gets it all

  The Tropics they're worse than the habit

  The burning blazing sun

  You break away and swear you'll stay

  The Tropics call and back you come

  The Tropics they're worse than the habit

  The burning blazing sun

  You break away and swear you'll stay

  The Tropics call and back you come

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