It twas in Barcelona
The people there are lovely
They laughed at all my stupid jokes
And all my phony strokes.
My pesos paid to get me there
I found them all delightful
They held me up and praised my name
The accolades weren’t spiteful.
But then I tried to buy my fame
And own it for myself
To charm the pretty ladies
I placed it on the shelf.
My bold desire was stifled
The people saw my game
In the end my shallow promise
Only gave me shame.
