The cops had the boys

Up against the car

Down santa monica boulevard

Baby food for the rich and sick

Thank la for spawning it



High pile hair

Low slung breasts

The big hung boy

The deep cut dress



Ran a chicken ranch

For a guy named tex

Didn't know who tex

Would bring home next

One from a slum

One who was a bum

One on the run

And somebody's son

One whose mother was in on the kick

Baby food for the rich and sick



There's cops at the hatch

But she doesn't even hear

She's too busy practising santeria

Oh chango chango

Oh chango chango

Chango chango won't you bring me luck

Plenty of money

Oh yes! and a little bit of love



Trussed up tight

On a mattress of thorns

Four limbs tied to the corner of the bed

Mummy's goodbyes ringing in my head

Mummy's goodbyes ringing in my head

Goodbyegoodbye



There's someone at the till

And someone at the tools

Hot brand iron

And a collar of steel

Somebody put my name on a runaway list

I never thought I'd get caught like this



She's down below at a coconut shrine

Cryin' chango chango won't you bring me a man

A man who is clean

Who never acts mean

And you know where he's been

Someone from a dream that is

Someone who'll take me away from here

Me! the finest madame in mexico city

Being den mother in a nursery



I'd like to put them out of their misery

But a gun to the temple don't seem like me

I'd like to put them out of their misery

But a gun to the temple don't seem like me