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(learned in the 1950s, probably at UC Hiking Club folksinging parties)

(music to go here)

Spanish is the lovin' tongue, soft as music, light as spray;
'Twas a girl I learned it from, living down Sonora way.
I don't look much like a lover, still I say her love words over,
Often when I'm all alone, Mi amor, mi corazon.

Nights that she knew I would ride, she would listen for my spurs,
Throw her front door open wide, raise those laughing eyes of hers.
How my heart would nigh stop beating, when I'd hear her tender greeting,
Whispered soft for me alone, Mi amor, mi corazon.

Moonlight on the patio, old senora nodding near,
Me and Juana talkin' low so the madre wouldn't hear.
How those hours would go a-flying, and too soon I'd hear her sighing,
In her sorry little tone, Mi amor, mi corazon.

But one night I had to fly, for a foolish gambling fight,
And we said a swift good-bye in the black unlucky night.
When I'd loosed her arms from clingin', then the hoofs would keep a-ringin'
As I galloped north alone, Mi amor, mi corazon.

Never seen her since that night; I can't cross the line, you know;
Wanted for a gambling fight, like as not it's better so.
Still I often sorta miss her, since that last sad night I kissed her;
Left her heart and lost my own, Mi amor, mi corazon.

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)