Foreign Language vs. Language of Money...

When I was young
I had a dream-
To fall in love
On distant shores.

My teachers said to me
\"You need
To learn the language
-It opens doors\".

If local cultures
You respect,
The people will
Appreciate it-

You will have friends
And go on dates,
And you will never
Be frustrated...

And then I bought
A Spanish book
To help me learn
That graceful tongue.

I then that project
Undertook-
I studied hard,
I studied long...

And then in Spanish
I became
A fluent speaker
In a year.

I spoke it well
And felt no shame
To make myself
To others clear.

And to a sultry land
I went...
To fall in love
I hoped immensely,

With swarthy maidens,
Hand in hand,
Walk on the beach
And kiss intensely.

But even though
In Espanol
I could converse,
I did not score.

If fact, I kissed
No one at all
And moped alone
Upon the shore.

\"What was the problem?\"
You will ask...
You see, it wasn\'t
My appearance

Or language...that
Was one such task
That needs no tongue
Or perseverance...

I saw some other
Tourists there
That spoke
No Spanish, not a word.

And they were fat
And had no hair,
Each one just looking
Like a nurd.

But boy, each one
Would have a girl
That made me boil
With jealous fury.

In Spanish dances
They would whirl,
Their noses
In their breasts
They\'d bury.

Why, why not me?
I\'m handsome,
Young,
And I speak Spanish
Like a native,

I 'm kind
And gentle, not high-strung,
And friendly, humble
And creative...

But that was not
What those girls
Would look for in
A Gringo tourist-

I had no job
No cash, no pearls-
In fact, I was among
The poorest...

And since no money
They could smell,
Down their noises
At me they sneered,

Although I spoke
The Spanish well
Like one big loser
I appeared

To most of them...
So I went back
And learned my lesson
Pretty well:

In poorer countries
It\'s your jack
And not the language
That gets the belle...