SPANISH IS THE LOVIN' TONGUE
(learned in the 1950s, probably at UC Hiking Club folksinging parties)
Spanish is the lovin' tongue, soft as music, light as spray;
Nights that she knew I would ride, she would listen for my spurs,
Moonlight on the patio, old senora nodding near,
But one night I had to fly, for a foolish gambling fight,
Never seen her since that night; I can't cross the line, you know;
(from miriam berg's folksong collection)
'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.
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.
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.
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.
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.