Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.

P.J. O'Rourke

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Spanish Harlem
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There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
 
It is a special one, it's never seen the sun
It only comes out when the moon is on the run
And all the stars are gleaming
It's growing in the street right up through the concrete
But soft and sweet and dreaming
 
There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
 
With eyes as black as coal that look down in his soul
And starts a fire there and then he loses control
I'm goin' to beg his pardon yeah
 
He's going to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows in his garden
 
There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
 
He's going to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows in his garden
 
With eyes as black as coal that look down in his soul
And starts a fire there and then he loses control
And I'm goin' to beg his pardon yeah
 
He's going to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows in his garden
 
La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la